The blade was blunt
that was used
to cut the heart in two.
The bleeding was ridiculous
and profuse
It had to be cauterized
with a welder's torch.
The scars were ugly
but the bleeding stopped.
I took my half,
you took yours.
But nothing is ever that simple.
That which was one
began as two
before time and osmosis
did their work.
Now your organ
is playing the amnesiac.
It blanks out the moments when
heat was used to harm,
not to warm.  And so
Unaware of its foolishness,
yours calls out to mine,
trying to find comfort
by embracing
the fire that has burned it.