Heart’s Limbo by Carolyn Kizer

I thrust my heart, in danger of decay
through lack of use,
into the freezer-compartment, deep
among the ice-cubes, rolls ready to brown ‘n’ serve,
the concentrated juice.

I had to remember not to diet on it.
It wasn’t raspberry yoghurt.
I had to remember not to feed it to the cat
when I ran out of tuna.
I had to remember not to thaw and fry it.
The liver it resembled
lay on another shelf.

It rested there in its crystal sheath, not breathing,
preserved for posterity.

Suddenly I needed my heart in a hurry.
I offered it to you, cold and dripping,
incompletely thawed.
You didn’t even wash its blood from your fingertips.
As it numbed them, you asked me to kiss your hands
You were not even visibly frightened
when it began to throb with love.