Her heart is small & fits
in bends of knees & rosaries,
nestles between laced fingers, whispers,
sleeps among gold-edged leaves
of Holy Bibles.
It fits in whorls of milky sweet tea,
cream cakes & licks of tongues,
dances in the steam & spice of pies, eyes
savories, munches moon-colored cookiessprinkled pink.
Her heart is small & fits
in beats of pulse & flash of light
& twinkle of eye.
In echoes of song.
But not for long.
It grows, her heart, & lives
in currents of leaping neon signs
casting roving figures
on soiled hotel walls.
It sleeps in anonymous beds, her heart,
misled, stained sheets & legs spread.
Her heart lives
in envelopes of bills unpaid,
tubes of gloss & liner,
rimmed eyes swollen & painted toes splayed.