You Are The Music
“You are the music while the music lasts.” T.S. Eliot
You caress my skin, strumming the melody
The verse is written with the whisper of your name
While my heart beats rhythmically to your touch
A symphonic chorus of angels harmonizes
And you are the conductor, guiding me forward
Wave after wave of your wand hypnotises me
You are the maestro composing my sonata
I am the opera singer within your labyrinth
Weaving the intricate tale of our love story
A wash of treble clefs, dancing on gossamer strings
I am alto to your bass the Soprano to your Tony
Bars upon bars of lilting poetry sing reverently
Quivering under your masterful composition
But when the music ceases so shall I
My ear attuned to your key, every octave a prayer
Without you near I no longer hear the melody
