His heart keeps him awake while he's asleep. He listens to his heart while he falls asleep in bed. His artificial heart gives him insomnia. As long as I can hear the sound, I know I'm here. His heart keeps him alive while he's asleep. My heart helps me to sleep while I'm alive. Oh, patient, this Valentine is for you. I had no choice, I knew that I was dying. We are trying to survive. We are standing on the shoulders of the makers of the heart while we lie on our back in bed. They walk with their hearts on their sleeves and their noses to the grindstone. He listens to his heart while he falls asleep at night. Oh, Valentine, this contraption is for you, device of the sacred, the sacred heart. It feels heavy to me--it makes a constant whir which keeps me awake when I'm trying to get to sleep. It has no heartbeat, only this constant whir.
She remains important: think of Leni
Riefenstahl; Helena, Montana; Mount
St. Helens, with all its residue. Think
of Ellen Glasgow; Eleni (marvelous non-
fiction by Nicholas Gage). Think of all
those Arthurian Elaines, easy to mix up.
What about Lainie Kazan—she’s a Helen too.
Was this the face that launched a thousand
ships? Yes, all of them bearing her name.