My heart is spiral-shaped
it’s not heart-shaped
I see spirals everywhere
I see them in everything
When I look close enough
They goggle back at me
and I begin to spiral down
When I look far enough
I remember how to ski
all the way to Chefchaouen
Sometimes it’s hard to stop;
like a wobbly compass needle
Sometimes it’s a fun, long carousel ride
on a half-horse, half-eagle
Sometimes it’s hard to stop
and I’m frightened
Sometimes it’s all fun
and I’m excited
Most of the time, it’s fun and scary altogether
like a purple-wigged clown
and it makes me tired
It spins me round and round and round
On sunny days it’s a blast
to have a spiral-shaped heart
as if I was dancing to my favorite song
knowing the beat and the pauses so well
On cloudy days, it’s vicious, vigorous, vast
as if the world was spinning fast
faster than it should
much more than I could
against its own well
