Volume

If I could record my heart,
My love, despair and hope; barely acknowledged.

I’d blow the speakers of your mind.The chest of your heart – and anything you hold dear.
 
I’m not a threat.
But I present as much.
 
Inward I go; volume decreased.
Pointless.
 
Confronted; perhaps cornered.
My body sways; rolls and stands walls tall.
 
Octaves deep
and sacred,
Amidst ample requests for softening.
 
Run you can’t.

I’m not to be feared.
I’m to be devoured.

Friendship, kinship – it matters not.
 
I’m dangerous, no
precious

Ominous.
Desired
and required.
 
And it is that volume – that both calms
Attracts and determines destiny.

Ours.