Dina and Dan Break Hearts

Here are all the ways to break your heart:

Here are all the ways to break my heart:

I laid down on the sidewalk to look up her skirt, to see what I could find, to see what kind of magic there was underneath there. I laid down on the sidewalk to look up her skirt and saw that she wore the same underwear as my mother, what a shame. I wanted there to be some flare, some color, something I have never seen in the Spiegal catalogue or the infomercials caught on tape when we didn't stop the VHS from recording after the show we wanted was done, it ran into the night, into Miss Cleo and underwear models. I laid down and looked up to see a mound of fleshy hair peeking out of the sides of massive white cotton, wide and long. Get up off that sidewalk, boy, some old man said, get up off that sidewalk, boy, don't be lookin up no girl's skirts, you kiddin' mean, god damn.

When we fish off the pier, we are trying to catch a catfish with a heart in its mouth, side tentacles out of its face, we are trying to catch something that would eat another organ, what about a bottom feeder, I say, what about something that eats the worst of the worst. When we are at the bottom of the bottom, what more to say than this? Compare organs to see if they are the same shape. The same color. What is yellow in the body but fat? What is pink but nothing. Where is the heart but lower than where we think, what side of the body is it on, what side. I want to catch a fish with an organ in its mouth, catch a fish with underwear in its mouth.

A catfish pulled from the sludge with balled up white cotton underwear my Mother used to wear in its throat, how it suffocates to death on clothing. How we suffocate to death on clothing. Who suffocates and why.

I laid down underneath my desk for bravery. I am brave. No, I am not. Holding a beaten organ in my hand, pulped, pulped. I laid down underneath my desk to disappear, head between knees, in a sort of way eating myself metaphorically, eating myself in and in and in. I am wearing a skirt and I forget and I am opening my legs and anyone walking past can see my underwear, the way the thigh indents on the sides, muscle contracting.