Every single time I chain my bike to a post

I wonder who would notice I left it unlocked

And how far they would have taken my bicycle

Had I not made sure to guard it form thieving hands.

I feel discomfort when I stifle potential

Like when I tie the ribbons I wear in my hair

So that they can’t float away, part of wind and sky

Like I suspect they secretly long so to be.

Every single time I lock bits of me away

To prevent others from leaving with what’s mine

I wonder how far we’d be if I trusted them

And they cared enough to bring back what’s me safely.

I am art-blind: my uncoordinated hands

Flail inexpertly through space – I can’t illustrate

What is when I draw answers to your emotions

Through all my stacks of talentless finger paintings.

But you prove yourself tone-deaf to my art-blindness

As the words you countersing to my melodies

Respond without giving answer to what I said

Even though I know quite well you hear my song.

At least we both possess a sense of rhythm

Our bodies move to the beat of our frustration

Anger crescendoes while patience drops an octave

And we join together in a dance we know well.

When the music of your skin against mine

And the confusion of language comes to an end

Again and again (then once more, because we can)

Actions prove loud, the most vibrant in this way.

Now you listen to me, serenade me in key

I finally see you in technicolor

And I begin to paint you in kinder hues

While you strum notes that are no longer discordant.

Love, you’ve shown yourself tone-deaf to my art-blindness

But as we’re familiar with the same form of dance

We set our emotions free instead to movement

Reconcile in gestures and speak our art through that.