A litany of love
Is written all over me.
The words we have were not meant for this:
Enigmas, ciphers - they are better placed
As codes for a code, the mystery of you and this:
The meaning of pleasures, your lies, your taste
Is written all over me.
Even your smile has its song:
Awkward, delicate, like laughter laughed too long.
Your eyes have tongues only cameras can find:
Volumes are spoken; the trace they leave behind
Is written all over me.
If I had violins, I would play them on my heart:
Cup my fingers into bows, and let them part
My heartstrings till they pluck, from note and note,
A mournful, merry march, till murder she wrote
Is written all over me
But if this is your voice, whisper it to me:
Your language, your meaning, your metaphor
Are nothing to the tune of the air you breathe.
I am drunk on all your sounds: your tone
Has the timbre of wine to me.
A litany of love
Is written all over me.