Overture by Jennifer-Mae Barizo

Overture

by Jennifer-Mae Barizo

Your words are a press of chords

Against my ear, your voice

A symphony I heard once

When I was young-

Soft and green

And full of fancies.

I have come to know the tempo

Of your breaths, how they rise

And ebb and slur

Into mine, the rhythm

Of your footfalls

Stepping Into line.

But this Is only the overture,

There are movements that are not yet known;

Sounds made out of memory.

Muted from the past.

It is not all resonant, or out clear

By wit or strain, yet still

I know the progression of each phrase.

Your voice, the press of chords

Against my ear, and

The symphony—

I know It by heart.