A hand-drawn heart of stone, cracking.

“My Heart is a Stone” by L.K. Cunningham

L.K. Cunningham is completing a Masters of Public Health at USask. She writes poetry encompassing themes of nature, love and other emotions. She was born land-locked in Saskatoon but now lives on an island in the St. Lawrence River in Ontario.

My Heart is a Stone

My heart is a stone
the rest of me — dirt
and you, this late summer rain.

My heart is crystal and Venetian glass,
shards sending sunlit traces
deeper and deeper
into my bones.

My heart is a fist:
clenched muscles aching,
until one embrace
and my heart,
for a moment,
is an infant’s hand
opening during sleep.

My heart is a clay bowl
with a small crack
and you say:
“It will hold enough.”

My heart is a child’s soap bubble
into the air
lingering just long enough
and then

My heart is a ripe apple
for you.

This piece is part of the in medias res March 2021 “Love” Issue. You can read the full issue under the tag “March 2021.”

Image by Akshara Dash