(an)dante

Music spoke to her Music spoke to him But yet they did not speak to each other She didn't want to cover up his beautiful melody, didn't know how to play his song He loved hearing her music, but was too shy to ask her to join And they spoke in different styles Hers; light and delicate, the floating seeds of a dandelion. His; bold and dynamic, a tiger chasing its prey Her sound was a whisper, a breeze looming under the shadows His, a river flowing 'neath the vibrant trees of October But something kept them apart Maybe it was her fear of being out of tune His fear of making a mistake, of disappointing her So the two continued playing, but separately Neither one said anything to the other Instead, glances were exchanged and their music spoke the words they couldn't say