The music in the library was you,
My saving symphony, a silent movie,
That Jason Reeves song which
Never fails to wow me,
A whisper,
     A ***** whisper,
The ancient sound of a page's
Turning, a bell-ringing
From the ***** icecream vendors
Of my humble Homeland,
Or the comfy sound
      Of an oven-toaster.

I was enchanted
     To meet you.

Had you not come to me, love-ling,
And fling the old cobwebs away
From the bore of a book called
Moby ****
     Which my life was,
Then all the dust of the Earth,
Of the shelf, of my flesh
Would have gathered
In me, burying the papyrus,
The scroll, a fragility—
     My heart,
          My ever-lost.

Time ticked like a man clambering,
An ambulance, a clocktower
     Pierced through the chest, the soul,
          The spirit.

But your eyes sang, songstress.
My spirit hoped.
Your body leaned,
     Communed.
        
     Your ear
          Touched my ear—
           A melody, a harmony,
               An embrace.*

© 2015 J.S.P.