Autopsy Report

This is a fanfiction poem for Rizzoli and Isles (shipping Rizzles like there’s no Tamaro – technically an anachronistic phrase, but still pretty relevant to this day!), so not to be taken as seriously as some of my other works. It describes Maura trying to open up about her feelings of love towards Jane, who finds the emotion uncomfortable, even though she knows in her spirit and heart that she loves Maura back.

How can I begin to dissect my feelings

when there’s a tortoise shell around your heart?

Open wide those oaken brown eyes

and realise that I’ve loved you from the start.

—-

Your scent is of sweetest clementine;

I humour the taste to remind myself of you.

Every night by your side, I don’t want to go;

I want to watch as to morning you sleep through.

—-

I beg now to get close enough,

but pressing against me is a barrier.

Constructed to convince yourself,

against the longing for which you’re carrier.

—-

Serotonin, dopamine, oxytocin;

I know you feel them but they won’t help me.

You won’t talk about the cuddles and nights,

but I could read your mind in your biology.

—-

Honey, you know I’ll tell you everything,

if you would allow me access to your thoughts.

Now, why is it impossible,

to read your heart like an autopsy report?

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