the heart and the body

for tony went


unable to free itself,
untire and unbend its wings,
the body becomes brittle 
and torn. 
but in this time
the heart acquires what it thinks of
as keener vision, 
keeping perspective
by letting things converge
on the horizon.
it's not the heart itself
but its distance from the vanishing point
that keeps the body alive.

the architecture of that brittle body
is sadder 
than anything the heart can imagine.
yet to revel in its dignity,
to finger its spongy marrow,
is for the heart to assert
"yes, i am mortal", 
and
"yes, no matter how you try,
i can never be broken."