Jazz

Photo by Matthias Groeneveld from Pexels

Like the pause in-between words
Of a crooning love song, I’m engulfed.
Notes hanging in the air between breaths,
Richly accompanying the voice,
Sung like protest for my broken heart,
The declaration of my love, rendered with conviction
As I hold my wine glass up high, rising to its truth,
The blatant truth of my heart’s desire for you,
With hips swaying and shoulders rocking,
Twirling around to the sound of jazz,
In my living room,

Put the needle back on the record.

Another poem to read: Flame