heart to heart

It doesn't have a

tip to spin on

it's neither red nor sweet

doesn't melt, or turn over, break or harden

so it can't feel pain, yearning, regret

it isn't even shapely just a thick clutch of

muscle,

lopsided,

mute

still,I feel it inside its cage sounding a dull tattoo:

I want, I want

but I can't open it: there's no key.

I can't wear it on my sleeve

or tell you from the bottom of it how I feel.

here, it's all yours now

you'll have to take me, too.