Love

the love that
made you
was simple as
the sounds
at dinner:

clinks of pan
on stove, scraping-back of chair,
hummed melodies,
and intimate dialogues.

Harmony

a single feather
in a musical nest
of fledglings,
I peck out the rhythm
of my gravity.

I was born in melodies
to search for keys
that scale the chords
and play my inner
harmony

but all I hear is
the lungs fluttering
in fields of velvet oxygen.