Unholy.
Like unrequited first love,
my heart discovers your incantations and magic
last night. It seems this story has been written
a thousand times. A girl
watches, listens, dreams.
She is silent, unmoved at the start and almost determined
not to feel. And then she is profoundly shaken, breathless.
Listening as if never having heard music
before. You cast a spell. A choir of guitars,
exquisite. Cutting
deep. Your sweaty hope. Dreams vividly etched in the lines
in your face. You may see
ancient sorrows but she sees only
sweetness and she falls
for you, for your voodoo songs. You are
the weary traveller casting spells on the unwary girl.
You are
ahead of me
on the path to this, and the next life. You
have my heart
now, beating erratically in your songs. Carry it well.
