Remnants of a concert

#23 Remnants of a concert

There is nothing left in music, all notes
covered,
discovered,
rediscovered. Your summer
frock, it was begging for my arms. That’s
all I wanted, I thought and looked through
your silence. My clocks ran out of time,
I held you forever, you were certain of these
arms. Bridges burned and pages turned while
our moment, I don’t remember. I spend these
days in Kafi and nights in Dorian.