The soundtrack of the love of the same name

Thousands of songs have accompanied this life.

the great ones travel with me like good friends

or a comfortable pair of shoes

and they are with me at all times.

I can summon them almost at will, so many times have I heard them,

so potent are the melodies,

so poignant is the magic hidden in their words.

Often incomplete, unrequited or unformed impressions,

they allow themselves to become pregnant

with the nuances of my own life

and the lives of every other listener

until a lyric bursts like ripe fruit.

I want to play you all this music,

and for you to accept it as a gift,

because you do something to me

I can’t explain.

Those who wrote these songs

were chroniclers of similar feelings;

like that inexplicable warmth

that radiates outwards from me when we are close.

Is that warmth coming from my heart,

and is that the seat of this music, too?

It is a quaint, old-fashioned notion,

but songs continue to give it credence

and that’s where the feeling is to me:

as though a three-part chorus of calm

is harmonising around a central refrain

every time I hear you speak.

I want you to have this music, a lifetime of love songs

representing the history of music,

because they are jostling in my memory

to associate themselves with you.

They all want to be your songs

and I need you to hear them

not only because otherwise

I will not have a hope of expressing what I’m feeling now,

in the semi-darkness of a room bereft of music because you are not here,

but because otherwise I would not be able to show you

how my soul sings when you smile

and how you are the reason

for the soundtrack of the love of the same name.

—0O0—