Heartbeat from a Padlocked Cell

She stays within her padlocked cell. Sometimes she peers out with barred eyes and is tempted by the light and breeze. The bird song is sweet. She wants to fling herself into the blaze of the burning sun. She remembers she’s a grain of sand. A particle, worn thin, worn frayed, with time and indifference. Stay within yourself or you will burn and die. Turn into black dust. Wear your painted face, bedeck your scream with flowery words. Hoodwink the sky. Bow your head in obeisance to Life, or any God. Who will squash your genuflection with a stony stare. And yet, the cobwebs tangle insistently with an odd sentimental  tenderness to some archaic ache. And, though the rust is spread along the heart’s edges, it thumps insistently, unlock me. But, be careful, my heartbeat may be fractured, like the fault lines of the earth’s crust.