Your Ambiguities

Sometimes when I look into
your very human face, all
that I can think to say is: Stay.

Don’t imagine there is any
other place but here, or any
other way to be but in it.

I want to rhyme that Mozart
can be made to sound divine
upon a spinet or kazoo,

suggesting that this may just
have a tiny bit to do with you.
But I don’t say a thing.

I look into your ambiguities
and wait for them to take
their own sweet time to sing.

.