We walk until the sun falls out of our eyes.
Then we cross the wooden floor, glowing
In the shifting afternoon light.
And they sound out,
Lonely against the lawn.
My palms are pressed
Against the piano rim.
You are against the wall,
So you can feel the vibrations
Of each ring.
I catch your eye and tell you,
“You should have never happened.”
All you do is smile, weary.
“We should have never happened, my dear.
But will that change anything?”
You taught me scales in minor and major,
Chords echoing the bells as they chime.
I push my memories into your back,
Until they’re tattooed on your skin,
And there’s nothing but warmth left.
Nine. Ten. Eleven.
Then you take my hand again and I-
I wake up with your name on my lips,
Muffled against his pillow before he wakes.
Written January 22nd, 2012