He would play C.

There was sadness once struck,

but not a sad harmony

no melancholy melody.

When his heart beat,

I heard the tempo objectively.

No color on each thump,

and yet there was pain.


Rain would jump ‘round his face,

but the mood was misleading.


Sophistication that tells a story.

The story melts in humanity.

We never thought…

But when he asked for a lighter,

when he asked for a lighter,

I’m sorry,

When he asked for a lighter,

I thought of youth and made a wish.