against my chest, brown tresses
tantalizing the skin, blue-violet eyes
a million within a million staring at the ruins
of the universe, watching
a nameless god climb the fringe
only for the sake of shouting “I am here”.
I try to hold resolve, afraid to mislay.
“You blinked,” she said,
a lively slap across my arm, she rose.
Beyond the window carnations bloomed,
the scent of cloves mixing with a puff
from a stale cigarette we had shared
the night before,
I joined you for one last hit –
discarding the ashes
out of the portal and onto dry,
vindictive lanes. Your grin gives way
to the sounds of Fauré, pausing only to invite me
to join in the Fantasie, spectral weaving
of trembling metal against the darkening chords,
like a fading spiral of moon
against the earthly night. You seated yourself
beside me; those blue-violet eyes watching
ivory levers depress and release,
only to be depressed again,
a million within a million words spoken
without declaration. They didn’t need it.
Not in the todays so far
from all those yesterdays. Upon the whirling world
and impaling thrusts of the Ocean
you rest your head at my shoulder
for the healing resonation of summer
on a summer’s day,
transmuting the past harmonized to Chopin –
that tomorrow is here again
and that your tears belong to yesterday.