Our Plastic Heart Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Those days were filled, of course
with youthful, selfish things,
time meant so little then,
it hung, like rings of smoke
above, in Minnesota air.

You gave so much back then,
you thought I needed it
and it would make it all
in time, for you and me
alright.

Your eyes were never blue,
though there was talk,
mostly from you
and then, one day you blinked,
dressed up in optic terms
with lenses meant to serve
and help to make you see.

They'd given you a kit to clean,
and you explained it all,
in scientific terms at that.
There was a real need you said,
to keep those pathogens away,
their prying eyes from yours,
and Benzalkonium was the magic elixir..

Soon you wore jeans, dark blue,
destabilising me, though they'd succeed
portraying you in very sexy light,
I loved it when you sat, knees bent,
just facing me, with hands on knees,
and Levis fabric stretched with grace
suggesting that your pubic hair had gone,
made way for just a hint of a divide
to signal through the cloth
as if a wink were still required.

So, I forgot the skirts, that plated dress,
the journey had been lengthened, yes,
but half the fun was, I admit, just getting there.

We did what life expected and we took
the lot, insatiable was the order of our days,
yet words of wisdom and compassion, well...
they were considered 'square',
perverted was our justice and all truth.

You handed me, that scented afternoon a gift,
it was a heart, designed to learn anatomy,
each section colour-coded, fitting well
into its proper place, all function guaranteed.

I've always been a sucker for those things,
I love surprises, be they birthdays or just thoughts.
Your little present made me smile my humble smile
I never knew just how it sounds when a heart sings.

You gave me two that day, my sweetie, it is true,
but I was blind and studied one for years and years,
there was no beat and it required little care
just the aortic valve had turned a little blue.

I lost that plastic heart, perhaps there was a thief,
who needed something for his studies or his mind.
I don't remember that we ever came to grief
time sure would heal what I had simply left behind.

Some fifteen thousand days, and also nights
a hundred gaggles of tornadoes on the land,
the beat went on, that's what the musiclovers say,
and then a Fairy wandered in to lead the way.

She heard the heartbeat and decided she would stay.