The Heart In the Jar

By Holly Day

As the last living relative of Frédéric Chopin

she was entrusted with the crystal decanter containing his heart

submerged and preserved in cognac

for over 150 years. The etched crystal was so fogged and scratched

the liquid inside so dark and thick

it was only by the thumping and splashing  when she shook the decanter

that she could even tell

that the heart was still inside it.

She carefully set  the decanter up on the mantlepiece

where the dog couldn’t reach it

sat across from Chopin on the couch

wondered how it would all work.

Would the jar and its contents just sit there

untouched, until she, too, was dead?

Or would she eventually open it, one night when she’d run out of wine

determinedly straining the liquor through a sieve

to salvage one tiny drink, one tiny drink with her great, great uncle

before passing out on the couch?