How Cryosurgery Is Performed On A Living Heart

When someone you loved very much dies, strange things Start to happen to you, that you don't notice right away: The hologram that their influence built around you Turns inside-out; the bulk of it shrinks down Into one of those super-dense singularities. Their belongings start to feel impersonal and oddly distant; Reminiscent of a strangers bags, sitting packed for the departure. All the love and caring is siphoned out When the owner leaves existence behind: The void they left fills with a surreal grace, when viewed From the novelty of their absence. A breathtaking coldness Accompanies this second ownerless half-life: Touching them, your own fingers are burned, frostbitten Eventually dead to external stimuli. The rigor travels inward from the extremities, Making a slow ascent toward the heart, Crystallizing everything along the way, Melding it all into lovely, singular geometries As one cell after another is enveloped. Until the central core is an unmoving artifact In the arctic waste, but unable to die. A frozen cryosurgical intervention of stained glass Ruby veins, suspended in frozen calciferous walls. Other people do not notice the changes or see Not unless you touch them- Accidentally brushing up against you, They feel then the penetrating cold, Radiating outward in bitter waves. Drawing their clothing more tightly about them, They search for the taletale signatures of frost, Wondering if winter came early this year.