Lisa Alva

The Ashes Of My Heart

The ashes of my heart...

…would be a low and floating note struck on the thrum of the whale’s heart…
Floating, gliding low, low, depths of indigo floating about
Shadows of light, ghosts slipping over a floor of sand, so deep.
I write my note on the placid face of the water, under the water, the sound is lost –
only the exhalation remains…
gas and light, blue oblong bubbles exhaled from the mammoth breast.

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