Heart out of Time

words written in order, sequence, chronology

always knowing the time, the day, the week
of this I have little understanding

my heart beats because it must

it has no rhythm that it must follow
my thoughts all come juxtaposed

my memories come in portions

in bundles and these are remembered
depending on the passion of that moment

when I’d prick my hand in a thorn bush

or wallowed in the waft of flower beds
a first soft touch of a woman’s skin
my desires were lofted onto sky rockets
and since then I lust for a repeat
of this sensual ride

I remember but not in the order

of which they took place
I just know of when my dark blood
ran fast through me
and the saline drops trickle down
dispersing from out the sides of my eyes
this from a despair of knowing
this too will soon pass
and only a beat-less heart
would remain
with juxtaposed memories
and blood that turned the color,
flowing through all others,
a dispassionate light red