A Musical Moment
She talks incessantly of Opera,
my nervous systems not listening,
it’s desperately trying
to connect to her voluptuous body,
neural cells hum like eclectic cars.
I cannot think at all of Mozart or Wagner
I am mesmerized by her sexuality,
even more so
as we are alone in a rushing crowd.
Incurious commuters hurrying
to catch impatiently waiting trains.
She knows, of course she knows,
women always can sense
that moment
when the drama and tension
gets musically explicit.
I am wondering
if we will get to the third act,
or will we run out of erotic steam,
jump the shark right here and now,
leave with a weak wave and
a promise?
Like this, the music crescendo's,
or indecisively dies
with a much truncated ‘goodbye’ aria.
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