Once upon a time, there were two new poems...

Two Hearts
 
Two Hearts:
he wears his carved into his chest
but bruise after bruise
grew a forest to protect
from further damage,
she wears hers sparkling on her sleeve
carelessly dangling
like the wallet
in the backpack
she never remembers to close.
 
But then his buried
found hers broadcasting,
his pillow lips
found her sharp teeth.
 
And here begins the story
of two hearts.

Your Favorite Song
 
Lovers past a certain age
meet underground
all decked out
for looking good
where lighting’s bad
 
The dj spins regrets all night
the joint is packed
with heartbreaks, loud bass,
and mistakes
this awful crowd
that we feel through
half-blinded for
the want of love
but found and bound
your lips are soft
a children’s choir
sings in hell
but soon drowned out
I ask you what you said
above the brutal noise
I ask again, you brush
against my ear to say
my heartbeat
is your favorite song…
 
I let the masses press me
to the harbor of your chest
and listen
for your own
against the din.