英文詩(shī)詞：Sacred Heart

　　by Lee Briccetti

　　Even as a girl I knew the heart was not a valentine；

　　it was wet， like a leopard frog on a lily pad，

　　had long tube roots

　　anchoring it in place.

　　And smaller roots like lupine and marigold

　　and bleeding hearts‘ roots I traced with my finger

　　while transplanting in the garden.

　　Jesus had a thousand bloody hearts

　　planted in our flowerbeds beneath pink flowers；

　　they could see us through the ground.

　　I had a book about a girl who lived in the earth

　　near the tree roots， who cut off her finger

　　and used it as a key. I wondered if I could love like that.

　　I studied the painting of His chest peeled back

　　to show light around the Sacred Heart.

　　And in the bedroom at my grandmother‘s where I slept

　　against the trees， I was the spirit

　　inside the room‘s heart， my life inside me，

　　something that could leave through the window quietly.

　　I heard the fibrous closing and closing

　　inside my body and prayed to stay alive.

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