Incomplete

Since you elide me,

the lullaby lost its serenity,

displacement of lagatos,

to the sentience of stacattos.

Since you shutter your storm,

drumming no longer comforts,

beguine isolates the balero,

I have lost my rhythm.

My morning run, the rising sun.

reminds me of what’s missing.

Those notes, married in melody,

are not as they were erstwhile.

I search my soul, my dreams.

for the song to be full once again.

But the notes remain flat,

day in and day out,

Until you bring them back again.

 

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