Sunday, January 15, 2012

The conceiver of music


The music in me is same as the music in you
same as the sound I hear in silence,
same purport as the healing violin strikes,
the same intercourse as our curled lives,
it is the same skin.

So when I am drowning with your beads
around my chord in the sea of fertility,
enter in my mouth graciously-
like there has never been any computation,
any complication in our creation
of these stars and earths;
as if we submerge in waters and the ice submerge
in us, plain and sculptured;
like my naval bearing your prints
yield snowflakes, murmuring
the words which left our skin a million years back.

The chapter of music between bodies
will never be rogue,
never-
as they share skins and water
over many courses of time,
it shall reproduce itself,
out of us.

Posted for Magpie tales

7 comments:

Brian Miller said...

nice...love how you approached this relationally and it plays well...the music in me and the music in you...well done...

Tess Kincaid said...

Beautiful write...wonderful opening line...

Trellissimo said...

Strangely moving.

Susan Anderson said...

I guess we are all musicians after all...

=)

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

तू हुस्न है मैं इश्क हूँ, तू मुझ में है मैं तुझ में हूँ?

Can the expanse of love be measured or compared? Lovers are equally into each other, such that each one looks at other as if He's submerged in other. And love, it always finds itself.


Cheers,
Blasphemous Aesthete

Carrie Van Horn said...

Very unique.....that first line is amazing!!! :-)

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