MY MINISCULE HEART

When my heart was outside of me
I could never write a poem.
I tried, but I couldn’t.
Neither could I write a letter
to my mother for example
telling her I loved her.
Nor could I write a note
to my closest friend
telling him that the keys to my house
were on the red flowerpot
next to the front door.
When my heart was lost
in the immensity of time
and eternal indifference
I couldn’t write a word.
To my love for example
telling her I missed her
and awaited her return
like rain that arrives daily.
Nothing. Not a poem, not a letter.
Not a note, not a forgotten memory.
I could do nothing but wait
for her to come home
to write this verse now
where I say that I truly love you
even if I’ve never told you before
feeling my miniscule heart
as I never felt it before
when it was on the inside.

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