how can I forsake you
was it not your conducting that created me
your keen eye for detail that designed me
but as I matured,
I outgrew you
replacing your significance with a will of my own
jaded by my own experiences
believing you could be found again, many times over
at that point I suppose
you became less an object of affection
and more an object of possession
a conquest ending in conquered and conqueror
but isn’t you that etched dexterity to the pianist,
or expanded breath to the saxophonist?
is it not you that gifts passion to the savant?
oh love, how forgotten you are
tell me what would become of me
and this world
if you truly did not exist?
and why do I only praise you, in the vessel of she
rather than the wondrous majesty of all?
oh love, please remind me of your presence
my every waking hour
as the sun smiles onto the flawed
and the moon glows upon the misunderstood
and the clouds hide your secrets
while the stars spark my imagination
I may never be worthy of you
but you will always be my reason
whether I know it or not
because you know better
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