The heart is a mystic gypsy in a black turban,
center crystal shining hypnotically.
Some say it has internalized happenings
from the beginning of the world.
The heart is a shape-shifter tricking the minds eye:
one way today, but tomorrow
the outcome may be beautiful or grotesque.
The heart is a vampire sucking blood
from other hearts. Black and fat,
it feeds on the gore of old wrongs,
slurping every greedy drop it falls at last
like a full tick to the bottom of the ribcage
where it hibernates until its next feeding.
The heart is the box Pandora opened
loosing slime, mold, pitch, filth,
chaos into the world.
The heart is a fairy godmother.
Once its spell is cast, it lasts until
The heart is a mosaic
of blues, yellows, greens and golds
swirling un-choreographed, like a drunken
dance floor under pulsating strobe lights.
The heart is Pegasus
carrying a wish;
white reigns on his wings
tailored to the hands of the soul.
Kelly Hanwright is a writer, teacher, and dog trainer living in the beautiful Smoky Mountains. She has a BA degree in English with a goal to earn her PhD degree. She has been writing since she was eight. Her work appears in the Birmingham Arts Journal, Lady Literary Magazine, Homespun, The Mosaic, and various newspapers.
Editor’s Notes: Pegagus (Fjort) and the blue hearts (Pixabay) are combined to represent the last verse.