Poetry

Unwrap

I’m handed a ball-shaped mass of paper.

Glitter bows and silver pen all over.

Sometimes the small things that are inside

count more, you say. Unwrap it. You’ll see.

Wire cage under the paper. Hanging

from the top, five metal balls. Newton’s cradle.

Tick, pass centre, tick.  Like my heart.

Like your heart. Beats passing back and forth.

Momentary silence between them, but

always an answer in the end.

Poetry

Knitted heart

I hold the lines of my heart in my hands.

I stretch them out, red so you can’t miss them,

and splay my fingers so I make a cradle.

Into it you begin to pour yourself,

entangled in this pulsing, beating net

that is me and now you. One. Whole. Us.