The Silence Between Heartbeats

Before you,
mine was an equilibrious life,
positively charged with negative currents
of discordant din and familiar havoc,
aimlessly energized by fits of enthusiasm,
casually strolling pell-mell toward the mark
of a not so much wiser but anxious goal-giver;
proceeding in haste, to fulfill my intentions
of tortuous journeys from heartbeat to heartbeat,
with not so much pause as to notice who goes there;
until as it happened by fortunate prelude,
an undisturbed moment of a quieter life,
in the silence between heartbeats.
.
With you,
to rhythmically tenor my life,
a delicate finger was laid to my pulse,
your vigorous effort to order and rhyme
a more tranquil confusion, deceptively cogent,
more so as whispers to challenge the violence,
of overly-patient present day intellects,
rather than protest which placates the contrast
of passion and apathy from heartbeat to heartbeat;
the comings and goings from somewhere to nowhere;
tyrannical vanity holds tight the reins,
maintaining a slow down to a quieter life,
in the silence between heartbeats.
.
Without you;
despite the hope that I ever breathe on,
I nonetheless bleed the choreographed tears
of lovers whose dance was hastily halted
by arrogant whores and the impotence of will,
which then fell to the floor for sadists to sport,
as journalists who queue to delight in disasters;
you think me absent since you can not see me,
alone as we are from heartbeat to heartbeat,
though memories serve for as long as they haunt,
such is the interlude of not being with you.
I know you there still in the quieter life,
the silence between heartbeats.
.
.