It is not flat on a page cut neatly in two;
even shattered into a million countless pieces the edges are not sharp
The edges are not sharp,
the breaks are not so thin and smooth. It is not jigsawed to be put back together
The breaks are valleys;
The parts will never come together again
Look. Do you see it?
Here in my hands still beating. It is a messy thing
It drips, and just keeps beating.
It bleeds and just keeps beating
Like tears from a well that never runs dry,
the eyes keep crying
the eyes can keep crying; and so it is with the heart
broken bleeding and still beating.