There are locks around my heart
That you know how to play
So well, my maestro,
Like the ivory and ebony keys of a piano
Waking to sonnets
Resting in the repose
of your melodies
These are the chords within,
Tucked away for centuries
And yet, now loosened to be
Fine tuned by your fingers
That touch, stroke and sway
Me into you
The beginning of
Our masterpiece.