A rock is planted inside of me,

its burden carried by my heart.

The rock grows and shrinks,

but refuses to leave.

You must have known,

that only your presence

could take that nasty rock out of me.

 

Sometimes my mind chooses to cruelly trick me.

I see you by the window,

listening gracefully,

to the misty hues

of Debussy.

You anticipate naturally,

the movement of the delicate fingers

that dance across the piano

with such love and intensity.

Those fingers,

while not a part of your body,

might as well be yours.

For only you taught them

how to paint

the hues of Debussy. 

 

And for that moment,

the rock inside of me,

shrinks exponentially.

Its burden so light,

I can run to embrace you.

But Debussy comes to an abrupt rest.

The devil comes to wake me

back to reality.

I see you aren’t there,

and I panic

as the rock within me

grows faster than I can bear.

But the rest comes to an end,

the fingers choose to dance again.

And I realize,

You are still alive within them.