Your fingers, soft and
so magnificent,
detected my affected heart
that was beyond recovery
available to modern medicine,
and lifted it
like a small wounded bird—
out of its cage.
And yes of course
you saved me
for continued use.
Today I function
with superior efficiency
and equanimity,
one might say almost
I'm alive.
But such surprise
awaited me . . .
I had not known
that even absent
that pulsating thing
I still could love you
with all else
that passes for my self,
and yearn
as long as I have breath. . . .
Which came, as I had
presciently anticipated
all along:
you asked
if it was worth
the pain.
That such a question
can be asked . . .
is punishment enough.