Everything Is Mozart

At the opera theater in the dark
I was intoxicated by the perfume on her sweater;
The evening was racing toward midnight
And I sat listening to the Magic Flute
Wishing I had another bottle of wine
To calm all of my thoughts
About the way she would smile
Beneath the city stars
On the way to her car.

I wanted to sit on her mother's verandah
And continue to drink and take in every nuanced pause
Of her exhilarating history in the sweet way that she talks.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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