the way she played them ivories,
breathing life into those keys –
they crackled as twigs do when fed to fire.

the way her poise relaxed ever so slightly
as she sensed his approach.
he; mesmerized by her melodies,
heart swaying to the rhythm of her soul –

lost… and found, in one serendipitous beat.


he loved those collarbones,
and how the nape of her neck
gently ushered flowing sinews
over her shoulders.
her delicate skin
draping neatly upon her figure,
silhouettes of the beauty of her being
hiding just beneath the surface;
forms barely made visible,
like the way one would protect fine furniture with a cover.

he didn’t dare disturb such magic
as was simmering in the air
and she, sporting a coy grin,
continued playing on… playing on…