This describes everything so perfectly I don’t even know where to begin explaining it. Thank you, Anansi.

Amateur Cartographer


Heart strings

I called Dibs.

I play by childhood rules.

It was just lying on the ground,
still beating like it freshly fell from
Snow White’s chest,
begging to be arrested
for public indecency.
But I’m no police officer.

I saw it slip from your ribs
As you caught the 6 train.
Truthfully, I tried to give it back,
chasing after the subway
until I ran smack into
the end of the platform:
It was no 9 and 3/4.

More truthfully,
I didn’t try too hard.

Even more truthfully,
I secretly hoped
you didn’t notice it went missing.

I claimed your heart for myself
as easily as we did the moon
or United States
by placing a flag
deep into its aching surface.

It was so heavy with baggage
from ghosts of battles past-
like a heavy badge of empty compliments
or tattered letter across your chest

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