Love Like Music by Void_SansAnge
Raindrops on rooftops, percussive,
pounding out a steady beat overhead.
A warm heartbeat between my shoulder blades
is resonating bass through my chest.
Soft, staccato, breaths go dancing down my spine.
The notes are perfect,
but the tune's not mine.
He holds me like an instrument while he sleeps.
One arm outstretched, cradling my head,
left hand draped low over my hip.
As he dreams
his fingers twitch against my pelvic bone
and he pulls me towards him, gently,
like plucking strings on a harp.
I round my shoulders, stretch
my body into a bow,
hum one long deep note
and dream we are playing hymns.
Other nights he rests a palm on my ribcage, carefully,
like it's made of porcelain,
as if i'm filled with glass.
Sets his fingertips in the grooves between each bone,
like he's playing the minor keys of a song he found scrawled somewhere inside my soul.
I swoon at the familiar melody,
rocking slightly to the blue notes.
Lyrics I've never written
get caught up in my throat
sorrowful, jazzy, just out of reach.
I love him like music,
constant, yet changing.
He fills me with song, coaxes this heart to dance
and comforts me like a half-remembered lullabye.
Yet, like a tune hanging in the air,
I cannot grasp it in my hands
only hold it in my heart.
for all who have ears to hear.
No less real, or alive, because I do not posses it.
Whether heard, played or sung;
it is never mine.
The closest I can ever come
is to find a harmony,
make it ours.