Ode to the heart
Yes, the one that pumps the thickened wine.
Craved by the creatures of the night.
Intertwined through complex lines.
Kept from a keepers sight.
O’ the centre of a lovers quarrel
In heaps of passion do they come!
Tearing the lining, for blood to be drained.
But in those slow moments of throttle
Through gaining beats of candied drums
Do two sides of each soul reclaim their lost veins.
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