• Vol. 06
  • Chapter 10
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The Pig Heart

Fragments of the pulsating day
entered our sea.
Little Janine with her bobbing chin
Entered the burdened stomach.
There she laid, her lungs
Like stockings full of murmurs.
They say her heart was the first to cry,
the initial shock rattled her bones into a polemic stance.
With the heart now removed,
Into the barren cavity went in a pig’s heart.
This new piece bounded by water,
creates waves that divided her lullaby features
by the parts that had already started
pulling away from the heart.
Still in a sterilized case, her old heart fading,
turning gelatinous, this light passes through its base,
but nothing comes of it.
A newfound home, by the coast, is where we spend our days,
where Janine can be found paddling her shaken limbs
until they become bedridden.
Only now she protests this is where she lives now,
bites and mimics the dead if she is ever removed from her sea.