Heart Maid  #119
March  1998

It is late
you are dreaming

Creeping up
to your swollen
sleepy face
I slowly pulled down
the crispness
covering your chin
and chest

It was there, I saw it
Taking a garden shovel
to your chest
I marked
where the heart
would be

stood on the bed
put my boots on the shovel
and began

first, I had to snap
the breast bone
(That took quite
a good jump on the shovel)
after that cracked
the skin opened full and

dark liquids
ran over my shoes

I reached in
(moved aside any annoying
innards in my way)
and removed my hand
a fists worth
of what you stole
from me.

Now that's better
sleep tight angel

(I quietly consumed a
mint left on a pillow)

tiptoed away
closed the door
and left the mess
for the maid.