I didn't expect it but it's perfect
Surface inviting
Like a sponge invites water
A little yielding, a little resistance
A perfect canvas for my pen

My carvings look like flames to me
And between those flames I place
The sparks of hearts
Dense in the center then
Float, dispersing, up to the sky

I don't expect it but it's perfect
Surface inviting, except--
My hearts get stuck in my ribcage
Once I would have written
so many places
so many times
and among it all you:
what awe, what wonder

Surface perfect, surface inviting
The pottery doesn't break
Instead it's my own heart
Watching inscribed hearts spark
And fade into an endless sky
Without a word.