Two hollow bodies
occupy one chair,
touching slightly
there is room for air
to move about…
betwixt and between
the musician master
is just unseen.
Someone plays upon the frets
a song that time can
let us forget
as we become such familiar folks
that romance is buried
in layers of hopes,
layers of disappointment
sedimentary matters
harden upon us
and we lose faith
that there is a music playing upon us.
Sometimes it appears to be
we are 2 hollow bodies
leaning, at ease
so comfortable in each other's presence
that we can't quite hear music
that sustains our essence.
Then a day comes
when air moves just so,
the notes emerge
and the music flows
and yet again, we remember
that something divine
is plucking our strings
and making us shine
because marriage is music
a song about love
plays our hearts
tunes our souls
so that even deaf ears hear
the joy that unfolds.
And hearts that lie under layers of silt
are moved by a player of strings--
melody soothes
rhythm releases
notes and riffs fill empty creases
and couples
recall
they can dance.
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