Shards of heart

Once there was a man who put his heart in a clear glass bottle and threw it into the sea. It looked out onto the world through a thin bubble of glass of a world that tossed it up and down on crest and trough. Its soft pink center surrounded by smooth glass; moving rhythmically with the back and forth of the current of ebb and flow. A thin skin of glass and water surrounded by shattered shards and wet flesh, its soft mouth opening to kiss life full and long.

It came home as it always did, rolling in little circles, a little scarred, more like a heart.