Her heart beating within his skillful hands
A pulse, first sharp then slowly drawn
Electric test of a life's surging current
Coaxing the chargeless life to press on
The pulse, it grows to fill the new-formed void
Weaving a path to WhoKnowsorCaresWhere
Caress accelerates to clenched embrace
"If you won't follow willingly," it says
"I'll drag you to my own seductive place"
But less a drag, and more impelled to rise
The soul lost within a wall of sound
Exuberant, in thrall of the emotion
Suffering Stockholm syndrome, enslaved
Rejecting freedom for pulse's devotion
Reverberating from within itself
The pulse slides from silken strands to plucks
Carried from affectionate connection
To the sharp pangs of fire, rage, and lust
A violent ecstasy, a crazed infection
Wrapping around its own melody,
Confused, quixotic, crashing to crescendo
Trapped by the imposed beat, no will to fight
The pulse is caught adrift, it can't escape
And yet, it's dumb-struck, drunken with delight.
Relaxing to a halt, then one last burst
A final bloodied push of agony
The heart now loosed of its restrictive bind
Alas, not nearly as free as when bound
A pulse at liberty, but more confined
The man rose from his seat
Set down his bow, and her heart with it
And she, alive, to walk and wander more
Regained her heart, but lost her pulse.
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