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tender hearts club
2012-08-20 // 4:16 p.m.

my heart is a tender thing, worn ragged. left open and out in the rain. sodden, a bit of a mess.

there is earth all mounded up, mushroom colonies with red caps, moss growing so green: it looks like a cartoon, all together. my heart is at the center.

i want to have it burst with seeds, release a flurry of little pods. i want you to have a piece, and you, and you. just carry me with you, one small piece of this messy heart of mine. blood in your pocket, maybe just a little. or the ooze of life, anyway, milky white and sweet.

hearts are messy. mine tears, crushes, not breaks. i am never glass so much as a fabric, soil, something that was in the ground at some time.

for a while i wore a locket around my neck, a picture inside that said: i am green.

a tender shoot, a fresh pod, delicate, hungry. i am open, open, looking for the sun and wondering how i got here. little heart, so soft. going forth to multiply.


i don't ask - 2012-10-03
dropped into your mouth - 2012-10-03
yes danger yes - 2012-10-03
i laughed - 2012-10-03
sew me up - 2012-09-19