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I had once been told that
I had a pen for a heart

but for now,
excuse me,
because this is not the moment
to write verses.
Instead,
I will turn on the radio
and listen to innocent songs
about wide-eyed love
and indulge in
the sweetest smiles
and fling my spirit
into the brand of madness it takes
to contemplate
the evening chill
and envision stargazing lilies
and glass slippers.
For tonight
there is a humming
from inside my heart
in tune
with the beating
of the heart of the world
and it has no lyrics,
only an ache
and I want to be lost in it.
.

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