A din of low notes
Written in one language
Of hearts
And read in another
The meanings tumble about
In a head of wishes
And dwindling hopes
If I could write
I could put it right
A melody of math
And refrain
Solid numbers and nuances
Would glide across the page
With facts and appropriate figures
If I could put two sentences together
I could touch piano keys
And ukelele strings
Two at a time
To tell you everything
Telling you I'm free from love
But lonely of embrace
Like a loud Johnny Cash song
Echoing in an empty metal factory
With a concrete foundation
If I could communicate
I would touch your shoulder
My lips to your ear
Softly whispering the reason I exist
For you
In the private silence of a serenade
Kissing your lips and face
Gliding across your chest
Holding your waist
Wrapping your legs with mine
Tasted skin
Wasted in my dreams
To the song of No
Or Know
But not now
Maybe never
Or...
Still riding the sound
Of your voice that lives in my head
When we don't speak
I hear you tell me
Of the you that you tell me
In poetic words written for other concertos
I don't know why
The chorus of your soul
Dances with the angsty cry of mine
I don't know why
Your words have come so close
Maybe
It's just me
In a music box
Spinning in an endless circle
Locked away
A plastic sojourner
Remaining for the opening
Open me up
See your reflection
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