I lay there after making love, spent,
Eyes wide open, hearing music
Though the room was quiet.
I don’t know where the noise went,
But the symphony was still there,
Musicians whispering in the pit,
The conductor taking his bow
With unblemished, smoldering pride,
Thinking of the glide, the ease
When bodies choose to please,
To pleasure by touch, by feeling
Yearning in the trees, the limbs,
The undergrowth,
Glow of fireflies in the still
Meadows of the skin,
Flow of water into empty spaces,
Moving into now that has never been.