I thought I would have to tear it from my chest.
Rip it free
from bone and breath,
place it in her hands
as something chosen.
Something given.

But there was no need.
She took it without asking.

Not with force,
not with urgency,
but the way dawn takes the night.

Quietly.
Without resistance.
Without permission ever being required. 

A quiet thief.
And I did not stop her.
Perhaps I could not.
Perhaps I never intended to.

It beats for her still.
Thought I cannot have her.
Though perhaps I never will.

Still,
it answers to her.
Not as something owned,
but as something that was never mine
as much as I believed.