Possibly Near My Heart

This poem was inspired by the hendecasyllabic challenge which was devised by the talented Tzara. It is written, not surprisingly, in the hendecasyllabic meter.

Surreptitiously I await the moment
When the delicate fresh cilantro, or the
Fragrance spun from a balsam will remind me.
Or, perhaps when the breeze alights correctly,
Soft and lingering on my face or fingers,
Thus to perfectly furnish me an image
Of ineffable pain or joy residing
Somewhere, possibly near my heart. But really,
No, my heart is an engine made of muscle,
Pumping blood through my body's lonely byways
Out to extremities, home to no emotion.
Where on earth is the place whose name I'm feeling?