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.