She cannot ignore 
the bright and fleshy pulse
clasped to the sleeve
of her weather-beaten overcoat.
Its color brightens and fades—
each beat singular, it thuds completely,
whole and unbreakable.

Silent, pleading eyes peer at her from
every direction, across aisles, behind newspapers.
In the dark caverns of the underground, between
the murmurs of the harsh winter city—
each beat is a memory encased in its fleshy prison,
a reminder — an attention whore.

She longs for the crisp air
to fill her lungs and swirl
into the fragile grotto of her chest.
Joy, she can barely remember—
a tightening, a quickened pace,
flushed and wild in the wake of a dream

She shudders—
They take
in the threadbare neckline of her dress,
the scuffed faded shoes,
their eyes can’t escape the pulse.
She adjusts her collar; her pulse angry-
They look away.

It throbs—
in despair, in whispers,
in hope.
she boldly ignores
the pounding. thud thud
Each beat warns of our humanity,
frail, yet fierce.