On television
there is a little boy
who only has half a heart.
He says,
“I wish I had a whole heart,
just like my
mum and dad.”
He says it with a beautiful smile
that could chip a
tooth.
He has a hot mother,
I remember that.
Great cheek
bones.
I open a beer after his scene
and run a bath.
The radio plays
'50s jazz.
I dance with my girl.
She is wearing her pyjamas
while I swing
naked.
We dance quietly
with bare feet
together
on the floor boards
of my home
with the television still
playing
in the other room.
Then she leaves me alone
with the swing
and the radio
and the world of guilt
and the wish
that I only had
half a heart
too.
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