by Laura A. Ciraolo

For Broken Hearts

A woman is given gifts from a heart
Heavy, her hand holding a green glass heart.

If she could use magic to conjure you
Back into this world, would you break her heart?

Sad and disappointed, she walks on glass
Silent shouting the words of her own heart.

She walks on glass and hopes the sharpest shards
Miss the arteries and veins of her heart.

She prepares for storms, buys hurricane lamps
With etched glass antique alabaster hearts.

She hears operatic butterflies sing
Arias of knives, swords stabbing the heart.

She eats lion, the ultimate gesture,
Thumbs her nose, consumes her enemy's heart.

Laura is a movie and a woman
Murdered, but she lives and follows her heart.

© 2007 by Laura A. Ciraolo


About the Author

Laura A. Ciraolo has poems forthcoming in the New York Quarterly #63, the Long Island Quarterly, and iota in the UK. Her poems have recently appeared in Orbis Quarterly International Literary Journal in the UK and on the web in MiPOesias. She currently has three poems in the Spring 2007 Boston Literary Magazine. Laura lives and works in New York City.


All content copyright © 2006-12 by ShatterColors, unless otherwise indicated. All rights reserved.
Reproduction of material, in whole or in part, from any ShatterColors Literary Review
pages without written permission of the copyright owners is strictly prohibited.
Site designed and built by Robert Scott Leyse, with input and logo by Granville Papillon,
and wallpaper by Edward Haven from two of his paintings.