Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Demands the Silence to Speak

Traffic of thought,
Interrupted by immediate silence.
The doors close behind me-
My heals on the shiny wooden-floor
Is the only thing heard after the silence before.
Then I sit and wait for my breathing
To catch up with the rate of my heartbeat.
It is my element, and I feel I am home at last.
The piano sings with my lover’s voice;
Light and lyrical; lingering sound.
A smooth haze of fog branches from his fingers,
Intertwining with the bodies of those who listen and watch.
A woman in the front row begins to sway.
Her head follows with the fall of the climax note, down;
Into the very base of the instrument.
I can feel the piece run through my viens;
Circulating within my body.
Then finally, setting free through a tear down my face.
The last note faintly rings
Throughout the accustics of the hall.
Almost too faint to linger any longer
Yet it still demands the silence to speak its last word.
It parts with him and his hands.
Still, the audience refuses its departure
And cries for its return.

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