He sat on a giant lump of heart
Thinking it was a sea rock but no

It was my heart

He had a picnic.
Sandwich grazed against what he thought was seaweed but no
It was my blood
(stringy with the hair I do not have)

I looked out from the ocean, hoping he wouldn’t make a dent
Hoping he wouldn’t sunbathe on it or something.

-

All afternoon he lay there

It was my heart
I had to suppress the pumping.
His snores burst the eardrums of the little man who lives in my right artery
(the waves created a crescendo and I realized that “now I am really alone”)

--

The sun was hot on my heart and it felt good
His sweat dripped down into one of my veins and traveled all the way to the ocean

Into my head

---

The sea is cold now with his death
The vein I used to drag him to me held on a little too tight