If your hand could reach inside my heart,

What would you do with it?

Would you stick your fingers in

And spin

It like a bowling ball

Headed down the lane

But falling to the gutter.

Or would you polish it

Like an old sports trophy

And scratch your name over mine

And blow

The filings off the letters

And admire your work.

What would you do with this

Beating thing?

Oh so violent

It throbs and sings

Pressed to my ribs

Like an innocent prisoner .

Tell me over a steak dinner

Extra rare

With red wine

Anything to keep my iron up

After all, I look my best

With my heart in my chest.