Symphonic

In G Minor, my love; a blazing symphony. This is how I love

you, scribing concrete. Our eyes, an orchestra, flaming

ripples and jarring kisses; for I have you, a season of desperation,

longing for morning praise. And so many violins screeching

harmony; and so many breaks, preaching our war. But love,

a trombone in silence and bass a thumping soul. So finish,

my love: feel the excitement; a heart leaping at peaks. Allegro,

my tear, a continent of water, pouring and streaming, draining

from a temple. Here’s a comforter; and here’s a vase to

capture diamonds made of snow; for ours is mortal: whispers

of oneness, a season for lovers. Meet love near a canopy,

and pop a cork, where structure is soon to perish and aching

wounds speak freely of love and eternal vows. Yes. Pierce a

countenance, and skip a rope, where love stirs a fortress.