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the red heart and the silver heart


ray heinrich


the red heart and the silver heart
the first
filled with blood
the second
with the lightness of clouds

the red heart
a sharp knife
swings at your finger
never mind who
(maybe your other hand)
but the steel inside you
stops the knife
with the skin split
and the blood waits
and the two sides of flesh
are translucent
and the bone at the bottom
is white and gray
and then the blood comes
to relieve this paleness
to give it life
flowing easily
warmly
thickly
brightly
but later
it is almost black

the red heart
filled with blood
the silver
as thin as breath
watch a tree
throw itself against the sky
the silver heart believes
the tree
is the forked tongue
of some creature
buried
beneath the earth
licking the air
getting a taste of the sun
and the red
sees only blood

the red heart and the silver heart
on quiet nights
hear each other
beating between their own beats
hearing the voice of the other
hearing the voice of blood
hearing the voice of air
and between the beats of both
hear
the continents
miles down
rubbing rock against rock
singing with their heat
miles and miles down

the red heart and the silver heart
keep slivers of consciousness
magic
like the rocks are magic
living in the weather
that comes from the sun
and at night
the red goes on
the heart filled with blood
filled with the brilliant blood goes on
but the silver heart must rest
from writing down the story
from whole pages of hands
needing eyes
and much is missed
but the silver heart must rest

the red heart swells
again with blood
again with temples and sacrifice
of black obsidian blades
striking down to stone
with only a million ribs between
the red heart fills
and empties many times
and drinks it all as food and still is hungry
while the silver sleeps

the red heart and the silver heart
read the list of names
and they are always finding more
engraved in walls
printed in books
and the names they roll
roll from the silver
roll
into the red
and all the names
yours too
the red devours



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