Listening
Your fingers dance across the keys
How you dip slightly as you play
The lines of your forearms
Making tea so you don’t see
My tears. Happy ones these days.
Moved like volcanoes move
I’ve been lower case
Minor key, hid the weaknesses
But the pain in dealing with them was
A pinch compared to the depth
This glorious height
To which I’ve become accustomed to
If I told you that
You’d laugh it off
As it should be
But I’ll dry my eyes
Cross the room to breathe you in
To breathe you in.
MB Blissett 