THE FOLLOWING POEM WAS SELECTED IN WINGWORD POETRY PRIZE 2023 LONGLIST.

My hand stretches out to receive a petit-gift,

I find within it a Crimson red: giving me a powerful up-lift,

I hold it tenderly like a bird in my hand,

Feeling it's greet lup-dup, lup-dup, making me understand,

It's words as components of blood,

Flows into my veins with a thud,

Ready to have a heart-to-heart talk,

Trying to lip-sync while doing a moonwalk,

The tender heart murmurs,

And I become one of the observers:

It's rhythm and speed is involuntary,

Whereas mine; becoming voluntary,

My heart's valves are like doors:

between it's heart chambers , triggering it's pores,

Searching for it's conscience,

To grasp the real essence,

All of a sudden, it suffers a heart-block!

This refers to an aftershock.

It's still an invisible gift, a heart of gold!