Thick fingers on ivory keys,
soft slow voice, and the
the pain you
kept to yourself
it wasn't the rumors
tumors
that cut
but the truth.
What I remember is the way
it snapped your head
around when she
said it. What I remember
is what shattered
you
that day
you began
your dying.
If I could go back
what was I two, three?
If I could go back.
but I had no voice.
You no music
you no voice.
We are minds and hands
that make music and
words
and that is all
we ever had.
This place is where I play
for you, my voice
because I don't have
anywhere else.
you are what
keeps me
stepping down
into the familiar pain
and when I see
you there
hurt resembles
joy until
I can't tell them apart.
It isn't that you left
it's what you left us with
without you
To have eyes, vision,
somehow inverted
so young,
to see what isn't
miss what is
that is the curse
I take forward.
Everywhere I see
the spaces in
between,
and it never matters
how small or far apart.
This is where I find
you, where we meet
in between
wake and sleep
is why I like it there
when edges
become slides
and holes
become hills
and you
emerge
from
thin
air.
