A Love Song

I once wrote a love song with my soul. A Shakespearean love sonnet we could sing together. I thought it would always keep your body close to mine. But, our harmony became off-key, the words muddled. We lay in the grass seeing faces in the sky. (Is that cloud your face drifting from me? Is the sky really falling? On us?) Your words, "I'm leaving" cut open my heart and we watched as our music played out. I loved you then and still feel a tug on my heart when hearing your name. How can two people who love so deeply search for the tiniest fault, which becomes a fissure, unleashing a flood that washes away love? How crazy is life that we unravel the very thread that has sewn our lives together? In anger, we threw our love's puzzle onto the floor, then frantically tried to remember how the pieces once fit so snugly, so uniformly...so impossibly. I've learned now not to live my love songs. My feet are firmly placed on rock instead of sand. When those intoxicating words and lovers call me, I'll not answer. But I'll still listen for their music; I'll still dream.