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i prod it with the tip of my finger
a seemingly useless yet pulsating mass
i frown, pointless to poke at a discusting piece of matter
large and a deep pink-red like the inner flesh of the primative
its rythem flutters off beat
i worry for it...
will this be its last encounter with others like itself
i open my chest, my sacrifice to a stranger
peeling the skin, cracking and pulling away bone
i hold the creature in my hands
laying the stitched form beside the whole
together at last...
slowly the pulsating ends...the rythem ceases
and i glance once more...at my heart sitting beside hers
and fall into oblivion