Listening to compositions no one has
rehearsed or heard before,
there is a calm though I have felt mystery
trigger destructive behaviors that often
dominate my thinking patterns.
I wonder if your heart is like a Yamaha,
a baby grand piano given company when
shadows dust themselves upon lonely eves.
Because if I sat next to you, minutes
before midnight, would tenderness
open its eyes as we close ours and
let our fingers reflect and promenade?
This tension will not always be pricking
my ears, it will not always stiffen my neck.
Soon, it will have my hands running,
fluttering to keep time though the world
never kept ours...
soon, I will compose, and we will overhear
serenity, something our breaths could
never quite perfect.
