Rhythm

The staccato beat of your heart

feels like thunder in my ears.

It’s like horses and carriages

are pounding away at the dirt inside of you

kicking up dust clouds until you are left

blind

with stinging eyes

and tears about to fall.

And in those carriages

are laughing children

and preachers

and thieves

all traveling through your veins

burning

and

shouting

and

plundering

and I wonder what is left of you.

Then the music starts

and your rhythm changes

and that’s when I know.