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Sport 34: Winter 2006

2

page 131

2

The beating heart lies moving and unmoved.
Its chambers synchronously flex; relax;
and, like a rose, pulse the arteries
so simply as to be profound.

The image of Christ
being in symmetry
the heart remains eccentric
just beneath the lifting ribs.

Its delicate and rosy caves,
living rooms without a view,
beat each in turn, in turn,
internal rhythms
to what end is also theirs,
the blue translucent waste.