You play your guitar in the darkness–
nimble fingers deft with confidence.
Drums pound out your inner rumblings
and your arms become fierce with lust
for your music.
Your hands make keyboards hum and twinkle
notes spiral and flutter or slowly
stutter out your needs.
You change instruments– with ease
with every variation of your heart.
And there is us.
No eager chatter follows our lovemaking
it’s always left undone
like the covers on the bed.
Our blissful days of future
contained the merriment of church bells
and the tinkling laughter of children,
but silence pervades.
We speak in different tongues
and occupy foreign countries–
ourselves.
And we slowly become forever ago instead of ever after.