His Distant Drumming Poem by Susan Lacovara

Long past the last line
Of his far away love song
She dances no more
To his distant drumming
Heartbeat rhythms
Hurting her chest
The pounding explosions
Of wanting...
Of waiting...
Of waning...
Of watching his fingers
Wrapped around solid sticks
Thumping out his tragic tunes
She searches the strikes
Of his hands
Recalling how he once played
Upon her skin....
The nook of her neck...
The small of her back...
Then, when she traced his face
With her own reach of touch
Praying she would never need
To commit his smile
His sighing eyes
To memory

In the exhilaration of late night ecstasy
She surrendered all she was
To become his music, his muse
To feel his sweat
Witness the tightened muscles of his arms
As he positioned himself above her
Balancing between breathlessness
And blissfulness
Ablaze
The tribal tune of coming together
Only to be left in the lingering desire
For his distant drumming
Her broken pieces
splintered heart
Yearning only...
Wishing merely...
Praying endlessly...
For a return
An applauded encore performance
of his distant drumming