How to Handle a Heart

Wear gloves tightly
fitted to your fingers,
but not too tight—

you will want to feel
the surface purely,

the way the vessels
hug the muscle
like roots that shoot
deep in to the damp
body of the earth.

You will want to feel
the tissue pulsing 
because it’s like
listening to music
in your hand,

and it will make you think 
that maybe the day
God created
the human heart 
as the same day
he made rhythm
and set the entire planet
to one beat,

and when you’re done
you must shake it briskly—

let any air out
that might be trapped
inside the chambers—
but not too hard, because
it’s like cupping a bird
in your hands—

the one that got stuck
in your house
through an open window,

the one you’ve managed
to coax and capture,

the one whose hollow body
you feel flailing inside your palm
as you walk onto the front lawn,
release your gap-toothed drip

and watch its wings
spread widely
into the open sky,
pumping the air
like blood.