My Hart

I see my Hart between my blinks of life. It is my hart, how it dances. I see as the hart attacks the light. My beating heart, come dance the night. A fleeing hart is seen by all. My passing hart, I watch you go. And standing behind is a bleeding man. Watching his hart, his bleeding heart in hand.



12 thoughts on “My Hart

  1. Oh Jason, again I don’t actually “get it” but the images conjured are intriguing, fleeting, and sad. It is a good thing you’re such a pretty boy that I smile at the end or I just might kill my passing hart instead of letting it go. Like you, the bleeding man, I usually hold my bleeding heart in my hand; while my dreams go.

    At least that is my first reaction; I’ll read this again tomorrow and see what appears on my inner screen.

    Liked by 1 person

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