The Reverence Of Music Poem by Mark Heathcote

Many men have desired a private audience
your body is an instrument of music and love
you've serpents for braids hissing in tidal waves
and their taking little bites of my heart and soul.
I listen intently to the rise and fall of your breath,
you are the harmony that makes any song sing.
I-hang-on every note and vibration reverberating
my lungs are full to an unequalled capacity,
I am bereft like a shadow without substance
I have signed a signatory surrender
to once-again-my love, kiss only you.