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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Moth Heart

I never fell for magic tricks
until I fell for you
You knew my cards
before I looked at them
Cut people in half
and made them whole
I was mesmerized

You made my heart disappear
under a silk handkerchief
and left in its place
a moth
The flutter of its wings
felt so much like heartbeats
I barely noticed it was missing
until the moth flew away
like one of your magic doves

I keep hoping you will return
to make me whole again.

submitted for Magpie Tales, Mag 255