Artery to Heart

You are not the kind
to be un-made like
like a bed or a question.

You were meant to be
made, like early light
on a distant hill,

or a kiss of morning
on the dewy lips of
a long-necked rose.

You were never intended
to be un-done, like
the second button

of a maiden's blouse,
like pinned up hair
released and shaken down

You were put together in
such a way, a seedling carefully
laid & covered in its earthen bed,

an artery sewn to its heart.

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