"The donor" by Bob Hicok

My voyeurism begins with the wonder of his heartflying through a windshield in the intricateseed-pod of his body and proceeds to the soundof your wife scooting across an oriental rugon her ass to put a hand on your chest, a scarof cuneiform crossed by the wind of her fingers, and asksif you have any memory of your starter heartbeing removed and the new city they addedtaking root, fluids such as snow and sunrisesurrounding me with a second chancethis morning to feel that beauty is everythingbeing a surprise to the mirror, and were you cuckoldedby yourself, your erection his erection by virtueof his heart disseminating the ambitionof your blood, it's so easy to forgetevery hard-on is blood, a temporary heart,the first time you made love as a new manor as romantics say, fuckedBob Hicok's new book, Elegy Owed, is due out soon from Copper Canyon.