Aftertouch

 
this is
what an aftertouch
is to a symphony

barely noticed
in the storm
of what was

this is
lingering resonance
nine hundred
nanoseconds
in duration
but saying everything
that was ever spoken
in one final exhale

when commotion
was cut sharp
into the loudest
silence ever heard

this is
your face
relaxing after
exciting expression
exercise to sink
back into stillness
almost closed eyes
skin so unstrained

brushing your
still parted lips
against mine

this is
your voice
a soft moaning sigh
in sharp contrast
to the hollering high
that seconds ago
filled the room
and my mind

that uneloquent
chanting exploding
tonight

this is
so much more
than my still
hammering heart
trying to lower
the pulse

as powerless
we exhale
and sink softly
onto ourselves
and welcome
the aftertouch
of a symphony

for now