there’s only a humming
behind the velvet curtains
where her virginal heart
used to be.
I opened the curtains,
expected to find part of her there.
beating.
the brightest red.
this feels like the summer
I ate nothing but oatmeal.
all that warmth in the sun
made me feel too full.
I took up sewing to replace
this black hole behind the curtains.
a felt heart unravels at the seams.
I never promised I was good
at making anything real again.
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