can you hear it?
are you listening?
to the rhythmic beating of your life
tucked away, shielded away by ribs
up against muscle and bone
flesh and tissue.
i was never good with anatomy
seventh grade science dissection projects
always creeped me out.
staring into the eyeball of the insect
that lay fully exposed and at the hands of a very immature and awkward young boy or girl.
giving them everyday names like “Ann” or “Ted”
in attempts to bring some life-qualities
to something that will never be again.
when i enter into a space. relationship. experience,
where i feel bare;
as if my chest is pinned open
and my organs, bone and tissue
are exposed for this world to see
that my heart will continue to beat
in a rythm that is true
and recognizable to me.