strange intercourse

fingers tickle the inside of my rib cage
like a feather between toes
they reach around, searching
finding only lungs, throat, bone, muscle
there it is
the grin widens as fingers tighten
the now frightened and tiny organ
soon the limb retracts from my system
the cold hand rips my heart
out of my chest

Published by bernardsbarnes

Writer. Artist. Performer. A little boy dreaming of the stars.

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