Heart-forge

I forge the metal to forge my mind;

each hammer-swing scatters the darkness.

I show the silver where to flow, and my

pathways realign in its molten channel.

Warmth must always lead the way.

Flux streams down my cheeks when I cry.

I pour molten metal down my throat

when I’m hollowed out; I cast my veins in silver.

Later I’ll polish them to dust and start over.

If I could burn out my wax heart and flood it

with something stronger, I would. In the meantime

I’ll lay a pendant across my chest and feel the warmth inside.

I forge the metal to forge my mind;

I set gemstones in the spaces between my memories.

See how the whole thing shines? You can see the stars

even in the midnight

of my mind’s eye.