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.
 
Octives 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.