I’m archaic in my filigree ways.
How I want you,
but how I detest to show my deepest love for you.
The angels gather when you speak.
A tangled triumph of love becomes you.
It’s as if you know all the notes and play them on my heart.
You’ve unlocked my secret;
to die in the depths of ecstasy.
You are an aria, the opening act of operas.
Watch my hot tears roll down my face for you.
You are the silver thorn that will not let me sleep.
From the heavens above who make my heart beat,
but, it’s you that it beats for.
Let the moonlight drip into our wine,
then we shall speak the truth of what our desires are.
Are you real, or an image I keep alive in my weak mind,
so I will not feel dead.
Joann Cohen 2018
You can read Joann’s work here at jomillyblog.