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This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue... Down in the Dirt magazine (v101) (the December 2011 Issue) You can also order this 5.5" x 8.5" issue as an ISSN# paperback book:						This writing also appears in this 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback “Perfectly Imperfect” Order this 6" x 9" ISBN# book:

Order this writing in the book Bleeding Heart Cadaver (a Down in the Dirt collection book)		get the 320 page September-December 2011 Down in the Dirt magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Order this writing in the book 100 Words (the 2011 poetry collection book)		get the short poem collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Beating Heart Cadaver

Katrina K Guarascio

I wish I could warm my feet on you tonight.
Wish you would take my hands in yours,
and ask me why I am always so cold.

I tell you it’s not my fault.
Ropes of red under pale skin,
beating burden buried in ribbed cage,
these things lack heat.

My cold body
doesn’t deny the pump of blood,
but heart is veiled deep
and when hand curls against chest,
the cavern seems hollow.

This is life without living,
disappointment in survival,
leading to dropped eyes
and limped wrists.

What’s the point of circulation
without the ability to feel sensation?
What’s the point of catching
the wind if unwinged?

Skin only prickles in the breeze.
A reflex, not a reaction.

Spiteful heart continues pumping under skin.
I lack the talent to stop it,
as much as the spark to ignite.

You once enveloped me completely;
concealing me safely inside cracked fingers
and protective embrace.
You shielded me from broken glass
and car crash.

Now, my back has toughened
under the beat of sun.
Thick casing becomes only shelter,
calloused limbs only protection.

I miss being able to fold myself inside of you.
I miss the way your hands made mine
seem warm and
so
    very
        small.

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