The heart, the surgeon says, does not reveal
the small rifts, the hairline cracks which

split the hairline cracks they conceal cops
and robbers in a stretch of skin flaunting

star-scars with show of blood bone
the ledges of what it holds tight in checkmate

moves: bend this and break
fight first and bleed to earn

needle  finger  wrap  caress  balm
the salvation of sight   Behold what beauty

lasts, what outlasts itself     The curtain
calls the ovation     Seize the beginning

that ends this way: off center stage above
fractured ribs the heart succumbs in silence

All is dark. Listen      a kommos sung solo
It is too late to repair anything.

Copyright Credit: Ru Freeman, “The Heart Shows No Signs” from Open Carry (Trio House Press, 2027). Originally published in Poetry (April 2019). Copyright © 2019 by Ru Freeman. Used with the permission of the author.