in this open window?
It would be as though my hands and feet
were suddenly untied, and life was pouring back in.
I would say, I have not smiled
or laughed since you left.
Wine has had no effect.
And you would tease, Such melancholy.
It may be catching.
Then I would wrap my shroud around
and offer my neck to your blade.
Cure this headache permanently.
You are the soul light in my eyes.
Words drift out on the air.
Let the musicians play now.
The stringed instruments, the tambourine and drum,
since no reed flute is here today.