Tinker

Sir!
Hey, mister!

Can you fix this?
I don't have much to offer,
But can you find some kindness
In your...
In you
To tinker with my...

Heart?

"What happened, miss?"
He asked,
As he settled
His cart to the ground.

There was another
To whom he gave his love.

“My fee is Honesty,
And I'm not sure you can pay.”

There must have been another
To whom he gave his body.

“You are poorer than I,
Standing here in my rags.”

I'm not sure if he loved me…

He hefted his cart
And began to walk away.

I wanted proof!
I knew,
But I wanted proof!

He paused his journey once again,
And turned back.

“Close your hands
And let your fingertips
Press into the holes
Centered on your palms

There is where
The doubts broke free,
And as your grasped your chest
They escaped
No matter how close
You held them.

There is your proof.
Your own doubts knew
That your heart
Could not hold him.”

But if you can fix this!
Meddle and patch
And mend this up right.
Then we can have it all again!

“If 'if's and 'and's were pots and pans
There’d be no need for tinkers.”

He grabbed his cart,
Once again
Shouldering his own burden,
which seemed heavier than before,
And continued his way.