The thief of time gives us memories, the safecracker of hearts restores them
I sent away for: a four year course (Bachelor of Science) - certified, cheap, easy, genuine. In the first I follow your aorta to the ventricles - susurring. In the second I get lost in the swirling veins - just thinking. In the third one rests in the chamber to the left - for one has a heart. In the fourth one moves to the chamber to the right - for one has a brain. My tools are ready. They are: the noise of a cat's footfall; the toupee of a tortoise (and matching woman's beard); springy rabbit horns bound with rock-roots and greased with fish-spit, clothed in sky-flowers. With them I tumble your ribs: deftly in, deftly out. I know those summers so long ago in that enormously forgotten house kept so close in your heart: that night when you see two bumblebees on the possessed apple-tree, when she shouts "olly-olly oxenfree!" and dashes into your aching knees, when you supped on honey and raspberries. For I will simmer the dark honey and I will ice-cool the raspberries. Placing them by your bed, by your keys, you will never know the dish was me. For I am the world's greatest safecracker.