I will be the fertilizer in your garden, The tomato plant, the earwig, The endive, the ornery weeds. My heart, Mia, it is a stone. I will dissolve slowly, Like butter; with a hand rake, You will comb me into the earth. My heart, Mia, is a stone. A smooth stone like a longing, A small fist like love dawning. That doesn’t dampen, that doesn’t break, My heart, Mia, it is a stone. The house, women and men, our mother, The car, the dog, the TV, Sundays, All of it slides like a river, over my back. My heart, Mia, it is a stone. I have a weight on my chest, the memory of a quarry, Hard grief, sad
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