first loves

dedicated to my first love, my violin, and dedicated to those who never could keep up with their first loves.

dear first love,
from the moment i saw you,
i was entranced
your metal strings,
your wooden body,
drawing me in with your allure.
your wooden bow,
strung delicately,
flying as fast as the horse
and as swiftly as a bird.

when i saw you,
i saw the endless
sonatas and adagios,
cresecendos and diminuendos,
we’d play together.
in you,
i saw the beethoven
and the mozart i could become.
you completed my bars,
and kept in time,
rise and fall,
rise and fall.
you were, to me,
the swansong in my heart
that would never die,
a fire in my blood
that would never be quenched.

but, dear first love,
i guess i was too hasty.
young love burns quickly,
dies quickly.

they say first loves are
tenuous,
as fragile as wine glass.
i think every note i hit,
every scale i played,
like an prima donna hitting her high note,
cracked every glass.

they say first loves can break you,
maybe i believe that.
slowly every moment with you
was more painful,
every moment with you
exposed my flaws
you made me feel raw,
vulnerable.

they say first loves can scar,
the imprints you left on my fingers
lingered
but not those on my heart.
i hear you calling,
wondering when i’ll come back,
back to the start
lift you up back from
careless abandon.

they say a lot of things,
i’ll say just one.
absence really does make the heart fonder,
and first loves always stay true.
i know i’ll come back to you
eventually,
maybe when i’m old and grey.
drawing my bow lovingly across you,
reliving our first love,
together in the light of the moon.