Arabesque No. 1
the piano fills the bath and in a lighter click you
exhale with both eyes closed. what leftover
booze is there? i won’t drive for it
and if there’s none, we have debussy
and a storm at your window. alone, no one
better than quiet company or myself
and i’ll sweeten the offer
by whispering how i’m bad at holding my
breath, nearly or in whole, as your hand.
how do things look now, two weeks on
from your damaged roof,
its leak spreading and dripping
onto me on the bathroom floor,
already soaked?
how is it now that this playlist
could rearrange me as a place to find you
for the first time, save less cut back then?
can ‘back then’ even be used to describe it?
i wonder if the contentment of being content
reminds me enough of the fog that night
or if the mirror here is plainly a mirror.
it’s wondering, the delivered practice of
reaching across your mattress, which lectures
that sleeping here only rages you to me.
i don't want to think anymore
about the damsel you aren't, in your
influenced head, not behind the wheel now
but maybe never again! in which case,
as any i can think of, i am better
dying these nights than you.
but my,
my,
how beautiful this song.
Posted Sep 20, 2016, 4:56 PM UTC
My, my the musings here. Haunting with the tune provided, carrying along within run-on imagery that spills and gives weight in rolling thoughts. Arabesque suits the mood so well, a fitting title with the downpour in soul displayed. Is it odd that as an reader I feel as if I'm viewing this as a dreary montague synced evocatively to Clare de lune? Its like cinematic observation on a silverscreen while another song drifts from a distant hall behind me. This is my favorite piece in some time, the words sway with a cadence of studied enjambment, seeming so natural as they hit the canvas. It is hopelessly winsome, as you muse tortures. Thanks for sharing, and keep writing.
Wow, thank you for the kind words! This piece means a lot to me and I'm very glad you enjoyed it.