Nurtured Ears

Nurtured Ears



I slumped ‘gainst
our door
-sipping coffee-

Your music
it settled me –

as though you had
taken a paint brush
to my spine and
danced a melody.

a cookie lay –
unattended, swamped
by ants and
sticky thoughts

yet still I sat,
a cooking disaster,

chin dusted
with cocoa and
the thought of a
messy kitchen
escaping my mind.

It was tonight,
I realized your music
was like my poetry

The snare
your own battlefield,

the bass –
your pulse and though
it had knotted my hair
too many times

I was calm.

Each time your finger
stumbled from a key
I was reminded of
how “ateleia einai i

and saw your heart
in the shape of a
16th note.

and I wished to
write my poetry ‘pon
your skin as
calligraphy but

I never dared
to touch you –

for you were painting
a treble clef against
my rib cage and

tangling yourself
within my scarf.

Greek Translation “ateleia einai i omorfia” – “Imperfection is beauty.”

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