The Heart Is a Foreign Country
Ours is a partial language part pantomime,
part grimy guesswork: adulterated speculation
as to meaning & motivation.
Translated, heart suggests a familiar, universal
device but internal chemistries vary—
though components be the same & not uncommon.
The world owes us nothing. It promises less.
Call it: freedom. Free will. Or Wednesday.
[This entry was originally posted at http://wanderlustlover.dreamwidth.org/2323821.html. Comment on either at your leisure.]