clay heart

when we met, I had just molded my new heart.
the old one having been devastated by seismic heartbreak,
I went down to the riverbed and scooped up cool, wet clay with my bare hands.
I molded a heart that was full and whole and heavy.
the day we met, it had just started to set
and I let you hold it.
I trusted you, even then.
but despite your care, and my caution,
you left fingerprints on its smooth surface
and it hardened before I could react.
years later, this heart is warm, and cracked,
and still bears your imprint.