The Beat of Today

I carry not a trace of grief

I smile, I breathe, I stand.

So why must you whisper a name

that trembles in my hands?

I sit beneath the bar’s soft lights,

my champagne cool and clear

why must you turn its golden fizz

to water with that name you hear?

This plate of scampi glows like art,

it warms my fragile night;

yet you would rather stir my heart

with memories drained of light.

The music wakes, the floor awaits

I thought your hand in mine…

but now I see the step you take

still follows yesterday’s design.

The one you speak of leave it there,

in shadows far away.

For I belong to breath and pulse,

to the living beat of today.