Scattered Across The Universe

Scattered Across The Universe

i wrote a letter to a French man,
his name was Pierre; it was not his first name –
he liked to be called Pierre because of the “rr”
i wrote him a letter, it was a love letter;
written in the dusty stone of stars
he read it once, maybe twice?
it really does not matter

i ripped out my heart with my right hand;
held it out for him to hold – he didn’t
it sat there thumping; getting cold,
i cupped it with my left hand,
trying to keep it warm

Pierre asked, Are you French?
You have a French name –
quite possibly some features.
heaving out warm breath i replied,
I have a little French in me,
but mostly you can call me mutt.

he watched in bewilderment;
while i kept my empty vessel soothed,
curiosity got the best of him,
he took it into his palms
my head tilted to the left,
his to the right
we stared at the glass-like thing;
covered in various words
he smiled slightly,
the right corner of his mouth curved
and his left eyebrow twitched

he held my life-blood right there!
cradled in his hands,
for a second,
he understood the importance;
he accidentally dropped it,
in fear trampled all over it,
then, wrongfully ignored it …
<he ran away, looking back once>

some shards stuck into his foot –
they are still there to this day,
my heart? it has vanished;
into the dreams of galaxies,
waiting to be explored
and i? i am still a mutt;
with a French name,
happily watching the pieces of me –
scattered across the Universe
<winking, Nebulae ask,
who is the real fool?>