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Beautiful Stopwatch MAG
My heart whacks the
inside of my warm and soft
chest,
sending a light drum to
the internal ear inside my
head
The ivory keys are plucked and
prodded with restrained
intensity as
my mouth dries up like
a marker with no cap
Whoever thought
and scribed these notes on paper is no
genius, but
a god, an all-knowing being,
a piano in human form, just
guiding the hands of its body
to the
right keys with
the perfect amount of force
I can feel the slight pain in my throat that
already
hasn’t had air in it
for the past minute
or so,
as the saltwater rushes
up to the nooks of my eyes,
as if a dam has leaked
But my tears don’t shed because
this music
has frozen time around
me, stopped the fly on the table,
a rustling strand of
hair, a
gasp of breath
All that are moving are the pads of the
fingers, more like
mouths, speaking this act of pure
love and simplicity.
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This article has 7 comments.
I could almost hear the music, your music, playing just outside the reaches of my mind, echoing around the outside of my ear... Keep playing. Please, keep playing.