Practice Makes Perfect

If practice makes perfect

Then I’d like to perfect you.

Dip my toes in the water,

And see if your currents run true.

I’ve never been good at hobbies.

Pick one up and put it aside.

The cello, piano, knitting, art,

Putting them down to save my pride.

But you are a wave of good feelings,

A breeze in the summer,

The first drops of warm spring rain,

The comforting roll of thunder.

So I pick up the bow,

I finger your strings

I try to write a symphony

Rolling through chords and things.

You vibrate under my hands

You sing to me your truth

Soaking into my soul

A bathtub of gin and vermouth.

Loving you was intrinsic.

Nothing I could ever put the brakes on.

Careening drunk down deserted roads

Belting out our swan song.

Spinning in the smoke,

Drinking up the liquor.

Finding ways to make each other,

Breathe a little quicker.

So when the dawn peeks in on us

And our sweat has dried

To crystals shining in the sunlight

We can both smile knowing,

Fear,

Has,

Died.