by Josh Pearce

the heart is a sputnik
the size of your fist
once caught in the influences
of what body tugged
it at a distance,
once sending
radio-rhythmic pulses
across such speechless
now sent to its graveyard
orbit halfway up,
caught in the throat
not quite out the mouth
of sinking sensation
now only a hazard to other
orbiters that may
with it.

Copyright © 2018 by Josh Pearce

poet_JoshPearce_75x105Featured Poet of the Month Josh Pearce
Josh Pearce is a fiction writer and poet from the San Francisco Bay Area. He earned a B.A. degree in English with an emphasis on Creative Writing from SFSU and currently works as an editorial assistant at Locus magazine. His writing has been accepted into several magazines including Star*Line, Andromeda Spaceways, and Eye to the Telescope. He currently lives in the East Bay with his wife. Find him on Twitter: @fictionaljosh or at fictionaljosh.com. One time, Ken Jennings signed his chest.

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