nocturnes

there is a place

no one can reach us

far away from the whispers

and speculation

far from

our humdrum lives

and the roles we must

play dutifully to the letter

away from the lies

and suppression

of greedy guilt

that swallow us up

where I’d play

you Stravinsky

on grandpa’s gramophone

a symbol of rebirth not death

and I’ve listened to the Rite

almost to death it seems

never quite full of its ferocity

and chaotic beauty

that latent fantasy

of making love to you

while he pushes the orchestra

to madness, lost in its rhythms

like the Rite

I’m haunted by your memory

the shape of your cryptic smile 

marked onto my bones

I don’t think I shall ever

be free of you 

until we dance face to face

your pulse shimmering through me

and I love that moment

before the down beat

the sharp intake of breath 

bodies freezing in anticipation

then the music kicks in

heads spinning blissfully

all fingers and mouths

every pore of skin focused

over there- our place

an unreachable ideal

but now I am cold, damp

from autumn rain, alone

I am singing your name

across the miles

the pealing bells of my heart

chime through the night air