Only a Musician Can Commit to the Stillness of Love

When I truly listen, I don’t hear complications,
intimidations,
or even regret.
I hear the rupture of violins,
off key.

Tell me one more time that you love me,
and I will sing you a morning,
or a night, if you’d like.
Ballads are only yours
if you listen.

SO LISTEN!
to this compilation,
intrusion
of thoughts.
This newly composed rapture of recognizing
who’s in charge
of keeping the beat

and tell me,
can you dance if you’re leading a band?
or will the pedals fall flat
and leave us hanging,
like the hours I’ve spent waiting
for your touch.

Then I wonder if wandering the halls
in search of your voice
is too much,
or less than the more I want to give.

So here’s my suggestion:
Instead of rising,
how about we set;

settle in bed.