Passion is dark music
a crescendo in my soul
to a deafening cacophony
till all I hear is you,
all I feel is you.
I am driven,
all bellowing brass section,
to such dizzying dissonance,
that my ears may bleed
from the sheer force of it.
Tangled in spirals of humanity,
your hands, my thighs,
I can no longer remember my name.
and then it's a crashing sforzando...
whispers of sadness, violins weeping softly
because you pull back into you,
lock all that you've shown me
into impenetrable places with combination locks
that even the sweetest notes cannot coax open,
that I cannot pry with the fingers of my song.
Adagio for strings,
wave after sorrow's wave,
crashing over my head,
drowning me in sustained chords
that never seem to find release
and it is the same as always,
controlled, contained passion
that spills over into raging self-doubt.
No more open hearts,
And the symphony concludes
in a deceptive cadence -
a timid question
left hanging in the air.