a poem in two parts

by ally boyle

a note from the artist, ally--

this is a two-part poem that was heavily inspired by classical music and sculptures of the classical era. their perpetuity and unceasing sensuality is forever inspiring to me.

the first part:

delicate piano strokes

build my anticipation for what

you say next to me in our

clandestine love letters. the same

two chords form a beat in my

heart, faster and faster until they

break and fall, waves of excitement 

at your words-mysterious, and yet so 

unambiguous

it is disbelief in my eyes, though,

for whose heart could even

touch the surface of the

love that my heart holds

for you?

is it love? i wonder, 

or is it a paralyzing lust,

a curiosity for the unknown and adult?

is it wiser, i wonder, to think with my 

head (as i am so frequently urged to) and

not my heart? i am so young-do your 

complexities perplexities me?

why, though, would my youth deter

my heart as it sings for you 

ballads and sonnets?

would it not enhance my emotions,

reassuring and reaffirming them, allowing them

to ripen like the most decedent of fruits?

a bass chord strikes me lower and

resonates from the tops of my knees 

to my lips, still parted in disbelief, to

the center of my chest 

and the two-note anticipation strikes again

the second part:

pianos tremble like my limbs as

i uncover treasures from the 

depths of my soul-truths and trysts 

buried long since i saw you last.

i worry-not about finally peering

upon your face once again, but

that if i do, the instant i do, 

everything will change 

(moreso than it already has).

every fear i have is soon

assuaged, though, as a smile i haven’t 

looked upon in æons sets me at ease.

conversations resume, silences endure,

and i am at peace for the briefest of moments,

watching the corners of our hands and minds touch.