You, the Birds, and I
You had written ____
I remember
the words
like music
falling upon my skin.
You said you knew me,
___and the poems I wrote for you
were markers
like leaves
in the wind
showing us the
movement of our lust.
I perceived you
as if you were with me
in the garden
laying next to me
between night and the earth.
The moon’s sojourn had begun
and we were part of that journey.
Who could say if this was a dream or real?
And I would unfold my body
into yours,
where I belong
beneath the hands
of your words,
conducting my emotions.
Rising and falling
watching the stars
knowing we are timeless
coherent and open.
I am thinking ____
you the birds and I
beneath the darkened
midnight sky.
Night ____ night.
© Gesso Cocteau
“The music is not in the notes,
but in the silence between.”
― Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
