Sixteen summers in bloom

As always: deep twilight, 
my room - an echo chamber, 
where shadows cocoon me, 
the radio hums with the 70s soul, 
his voice - soft velvet of my heart. 

Fingers dance across the dial, 
searching for that familiar pulse, 
searching for a tantalizing note, 
a siren call to restless hearts. 
He speaks of stars like lovers lost. 

I am sixteen summers in bloom,   
caught in the amber of longing;   
his sighs wrap around my spine -   
a warm embrace from years ahead. 
Mysterious man on airwaves blurred.   

With every sigh that spills through static, 
he sends me to worlds where I linger,   
drifting through nebulas of thought;   
time twists and tangles our fates -   
an unspooled thread yet to weave.   

I lean closer as he whispers secrets;   
in this midnight sanctuary we share -   
seductive stories laced with tease,   my pulse quickens at his every pause:   
Will he know me? Will I dare?   

Wishes rise from midnight shadows; 
my heart a compass spinning wild -   
tonight's reverie holds tomorrow’s promise:    
to meet him one day, no matter what,    
to meet him - if only to let him ruin me.

[2011/2015]