Non canonical, the heart can churn or burn. It fades into shrouds and pieces of what once was. LIke the pedals of a rose which cannot be repaired, it can only be replaced by another rose.
A single rose cannot be blissful or elegant unless presented so. Patronize it into a "dozen" or a group and now the bliss is merely piss. Though the heart, once full and complete, now its sporadic and eager, and nothing but a gelatinous splatter.