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The Safecracker of Hearts

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.

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