The Heart Exhumed From Valentine's Day

The heart is none other than...the

followup it awaits of itself.

As if blood were the champion of

a tide far more prolific than moon

and sea.

Its life is appealed to with the 

brunt bearing itself...with the

absenteeism of catalytic loves 

ever in mind.

Master of mind likewise encased 

in blood, tenderly captured 

waywardly. 

Blood's proliferating conscience

administered by a God's touch it

cannot outlive...lest pardon, and

so receive.

Konstantinos Mark

  

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