If I could hide within the hoops of bone
the surgeons cracked and spread like swallow wings
to free your heart, I would. You cannot doubt.
I’d ease beneath the sutures in your skin,
breathe only when you breathed, stop up my ears
to any noise but hushing blood. And when
you died no one could pry me out again.

I think I’ll do a sound file of this one soon.

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