Heart to Find.

One fine morning
I found a stone cold heart
Lying on the street
Blood frozen inside.
I picked it up
In my warm hands
And it melted
Into a violently beating red blob.
I was stained
But I took it home
I put it in a glass jar
And kept it in the sun.
The same day, apparently,
When my doctor checked me
He said my chest was empty
And that I was dead.