I pull at the string connected to the center
of my heart
and like a marionette hung at an obtuse angle
my back arches unnaturally and my head rolls back
passive to the
insistence of my hand
and unrestrained longings of my heart
I hang there
limp and
frozen
like an advertisement of a ballerina mid-leap
hanging only by the
insistence of my hand
and unrestrained longings of my heart
the pressure on my heart
becomes overwhelming
and I pull
my heart out of my chest and
as my body collapses
my swollen heart falls on my face
and empties itself into my eyes
I die by the
longings of my hand
and insistence of my heart
how could I have dared to believe that
wonder and
beauty
lay buried inside me?