My heart hides behind flickering candles,
behind soft music like Jules Massenet’s
“Meditation”. I can’t seem to handle
crowds anymore, those animal displays
of emotion from ordered violence
and surface chants. I work best one on one
these days—over coffee and confidence—
words meant for only you and me. Hard-won
times alone in the quiet dark, lying
curled like secure pups or baby sparrows.
When our heartbeats match, when constant crying’s
never questioned, despair’s poison arrow
lies broken on the floor. When we whisper
those brief, honest phrases: lovers’ vespers.
Roger Armbrust
December 13, 2014
