The Note



lovers kiss


Placing my hand upon my chest,

Feeling the music of my beating heart,

The drum that guides my life,

I can only but say,

That its music would not be the same,

If your name was not engraved

In the caves of blood and flesh,

That pump living cells into myself.

Without your name, the music of my heart

Would not have that crescendo, that

Sweetness, that echo, that rush, that staccato,

That fire, that mellowness, that caress,

That melting sensation, that impulse,

That bang which turns me into imploding sun,

Dwarfing star, black hole, beginnings again.

Without your name, engraved in my heart,

There would be a lot of silent gaps in

The melody of my life. There would laughter, missing,

Words lost to empty spaces; looks that would

Not be reflected back to my eyes.

There would be deserts in parts of my soul;

Some of my inner fairies would turn into stone,

And there would be places where the sun would touch

Me and yet I would feel cold.

And yes, I would be who I am,

And yet my “I am” would be missing a note,

A something, a je ne se quoi, that touch

Which turns good and nice into spectacular.

So as I place my hands upon my chest

Listening to the concerto of my beating drum,

I give thanks to the Universe,

For engraving your name in my inner core.

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