It was a beautiful morning
And the sun shone because it had to.
Intervals played with motions,
Harmonic as a viola
Sharp as a harp.
Today shadows played with her music stand
Viola clefs turned to a stretched version of their deceiting curves...
Out went a music full of semibreves,
Lonely, longing and lustful.
Fingers moved,
But homecoming was far from the syllabi
And my voice calling her was out of apathy.
Apathy or sympathy?
Footnotes on a musical returning with its taste.
It was a beautiful night
And the moon shone because it was supposed to.
Tonight intervals listened to motions
Harmonic as a listener
Sharp as a whisperer.
