I never noticed you can feel your heart beating through your stomach.
But it makes sense now,
How the butterflies you give me
When I peer in through the window
Before pushing on through
To hear the song
Of that surreptitious laugh
And all of its
Marvelous mysteries,
Flutter with such voracity
On their way out to the light.
The way in which my stomach floats up into my chest,
While I fall into the pools
Of those beautiful orbs and the oceans they contain,
Is the only saving grace
That buoys me out
From the depths that dare me to drown.
The pulsing rises even there,
Right out of my chest,
Singing out through the pathways,
Spinning out in ribbons
Of crystalline honey
And braids
Of milk and olive oil.
Soon enough,
It is gushing.
A waterfall of blood,
Viscous and sticky,
Pouring out of me
Until I am empty again
And the pit of my stomach
Is exactly
how it's always been:
Empty.