We always played by candlelight. Mahler, Rachmaninoff,
you cried as you brought the piano to orgasm. Faster
and faster till at last the sky broke open. Thunder
in the black keys. You could hold the world in your hands,
or just my heart. I loved you with such a simple
straight-forward passion for your voice, your eyes,
your hands, your miraculous hands. Eyes closed,
shivering, unable to catch my breath, not knowing
if it was you or the music taking me. Wings
caressing the keys, caressing my face. It
didn’t matter. You call my name in the melody, the harmony,
I forget my name, remembering only each note
as it enters me whispering, then exploding
like lightening.
Synchronicity Of The Heart 