Heart is a Foreign Country


The heart is needful
The visa office seemingly
Eagle-like retinas searching for the prey
And only what is eye-stamped
And beauty-issued makes it to the next level
When in the dire corners of a seemingly deadly room
Where quarantine officers scan every minor statistic
For quasi-familiarity, the cup-size
And how many inches the coastal belt is
And one that is passed through
Is then interviewed by the customs officer
For personality, honesty and even
The currency between the breasts
And when she passes through
She is taken in to a foreign country
With a temporary entrance visa
Hoping that she will one day acquiesce
To become a citizen of one’s heartland
And that is when rice grains are thrown
And oaths are taken, when she is granted
An infinite stay, in the now
More-secure homeland.

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