How to invent a heart When from him she was created There grows nothing but scars From a fractured bone In the image of snakes All hearts stand alone And are yet so closely linked Loneliness Always ahead, always in front This imbalance, this ever spinning wheel It preccedes us We march its trail Always ahead, always in front One can drink another's cup of poison But his lot non may win One act play And then, when the thread is cut The maggots feast on the heart With no discrimination of it being Empty or filled, lived or lied Never too much Never too little Always enough Verse ends