At the children's museum, I'd lose myself

At the children's museum, I'd lose myself

in the model of the heart.

Up the narrow stairs into the right ventricle,

I was blood

pumped by the great slow bear

beating somewhere ahead.

The latex walls were candled by light

as if the heart were its own source

or had its own source

I would find at some turning

before the stairs

that brought me down into the museum again.