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.