Symphony

The cascading staccato falls across my skin
Moments of warmth and memory seem to begin
Here amongst the droplets which soft, caress my face
Closed eyes, slow breath, sweet scents and long embrace

I am supple skin stretched across old bone
I am the first ornate letter of many wise and ancient tomes
I am composed of scarlet ribbons, down my back and in my veins
I am crescendo and harmony. I will rest and play again

But more than these things, more than I and deep brown eyes
I am the warmth clinging to a blanket, slipping in to sleep beside
I am the smoke from their lungs and the laughter on their lips
The notes that are their poetry, my symphony is this

I am his hair, that curls and twines its way into my soul
I am her hips, the curve of her arms such wonder that I know
I am the whispers of early morning when she leaves me in her bed
I am the call of 'come home dear' and a kiss upon the head.

I am of them and they of me. Enticed, entwined and bound
 Behold their complex melodies, I have found the sweetest sound