my heart holds more and more

life shows its cold self in marred bodies,
pinks purples reds of flesh, folds and incisions,
the gore reminding us what
our insides really look like; scenes insensitive

to our dangerously

and
beautifully crafted
hearts.

fresh memories of summer fool me
so i remind myself they will grow old
may we always curse ourselves
for not savoring it a little bit more,
just a little bit more?

i remind you that our time together will end,
and that it is ok.
i tell you, 'we can love in spite of it,'

and the occasional
sighting of spilt organs reminds
us what we are made of