Poetry :: Reinventing Valentine

Reinventing Valentine

I thought my heart

was something

I’d have to stuff

through a straw.

With fists

clenched

to my lips,

my breath

projects this wad

past air like an arrow,

clean and deadly.

But  my heart is

actually

in my hands:

a thousand paper

petals waiting

to be released

into the sun.

What a delicate,

dry trickle,

I think,

     admiring

each

      tiny

            dance

how beautiful,

            how alive

Nyssa  Rhiannon Hanger, As Light Ascends, Beauty is Beauty Press, 2012