To Ms. S, even though she will never know this poem exists:
Symphony without a double bar-line
Is not music.
Our love is never complete
While yesterday’s kiss
Lingers on my cheek.
The frail flame was preserved for
Too long.
Memories with you lose
All warmth.
It’s time to turn out the lights.
I might sleep well for once.
Yes.
I’d love that.
Dreams I can leave
As dreams.
For you,
I have painted poems
touching the heavens.
And because of you,
Scratched the surface of hell
With my earth-stained nails.
Replace the edged gear.
Reconnect the rusted wire.
It’s time for the clock to
Tick once again.
And this time,
Like the last,
May sparrows
Stretch their delicate wings
And soar away from the piazza
At the first chime of the bell.