Open Writing

Thus began the music note:
sweet and serene

like the tip-tap
of a baby's foot

till it split and splattered across the gauze of my conscious
and then gathered itself again,

tumbling within itself
as softly as clods of cloud on a summer morn

and left me hanging on a lightning edge
with clotted desire that dissolved the chaos within my veins:

exploding and blending worlds in its wake, its roots
striking deep, searching all my soft places

so, I cupped my hands, and
grabbed onto the note's jagged wings

to keep it forever
never had I heard such a note before

it felt like jabs of honey in the core of my ears
giving birth to multiple orgasms,

then it quieted into that silence that marks
the minute of death

with a suddenness that jolted me
into this confession of a music note