Wistful Symphony Of Love Poem by Josh Alfred

A heavenly concoction of chemicals.
A romance as frivolous as the wind.
Behind the letters, there's love.
But behind the questions there's doubt.
The middle of this symphony
Is running out. No vibrations left.
An ending slipping away,
As fast your hands from mine.
As quick as your lips from my mouth.
As swift as our bodies parting in space.
This song has run its chorus.
There is no repeating, no cycling,
Because the notes of our love, play no more.