No Strings Attached

A leaf flutters in his chest,
a replacement for the absconded heart,
and catches oxygen with its stretched veins.

The leaf is frayed, crisp, refuses to land
permanently; believes decay
cannot touch a moving object.

In the dark beneath the bone, the leaf
clings to the fallacy it is still green,
has unfurled only recently.

The movement of the leaf causes
the body’s actions to become jerky -
puppetry without strings attached.