High Hearted

The world is fun and cold, like the first roller coasters.

Lately I’ve been thinking about Love-

Making in terms of our hearts and I

See them performing a mating dance

And closing and dodging the distance

Between them and beating faster with

Each others’ apparent happiness.

 

It’s curious to think that they, like

All beautiful birds, can’t fly very high,

Or far, over the course of their lives.

That the bird in my chest should cease to flutter,

I can live with. But that yours should too?

Reviews

[Marie]

Okay; I think you meant "too" to be the last word of your poem; otherwise it doesn't make sense.

[Epipsychologist]

Haha, you always get me. Thanks