The Afterlove (revised)

is the pulpy red organ
born after love has been
born and died.
Your body coughs it up;
glopping red on white tile.
Nobody talks about it
but it is there.
Not even you know
it is there until
weeks or years later
when you hole your fist
into its cave in your chest
and feel the familiar weight
that used to sit,
hear the echo of its beating.

All this time it shriveled
behind your bed and the wall,
waiting.

You wake up swallowing
something that crawled in your mouth
and slid down your throat
while you were sleeping.
Are you imagining it?
No. You feel it, moving down,
as it becomes a part of your body now,
as it blends with the other red pulp inside.
You can never separate the two.