i carry it in my heart . . .

  after e.e. cummings poem

 

i carry your heart with me

(i carry it in my heart)

i am never without it

(anywhere i go you go, 

my dear)

e.e. cummings

 

 

i carry your heart with me

the heart that broke—grew—broke literally—and mended

the heart that gave and saved

 

i carry your heart with me

as i always have, really

 

i carry it in my heart

so deep inside

it cannot be seen amid my daily interactions 

with humans

except

for an exceptional few

whose super-powers allow that sight

 

i am never without it

oddly

people talk about being separated

by death

without knowing that the opposite is also true

 

i am never without your heart

and

although i know this is true, 

my dear

i must confess to a

sometimes

terrible

longing in my heart

for you

 

since i do not

always

feel

you

 

therefore

to hold you

here

i must believe it so

 

– a widow