The Kindest Thief

I slept with no beating heart again
late last night, it had been stolen.
But when I awoke, I opened my eyes today,
I found my heart back; over rose petals it lay.
And both were blood red, the edges
though were browned and somewhat frayed,
but my heart still beats, it wasn’t lifeless,
so I’ll take it back to my chest, there it will be laid.
And as I held my heart in between my palms,
it was as if I was given the most generous of alms,
for my heart, a thief in the night had it stolen,
but with delicate hands he held it, never had it broken.