His Heart Can
All his texture burst in through my casement
With a rush against which few could stand;
things most hearts seldom do. His heart can.
I inquired past the doors of his eyelids
And found rooms without count, just because;
things hearts seldom contain. His heart does.
There's no cistern of substance off limits
He can sip from the sharp or the good;
things most hearts seldom try. His heart would.
And he sees my own heart's fumbling headway
Toward the shore of the brim where it's filled;
things most hearts seldom love. His heart will.