Saturday, March 11, 2006

for anne-elisa, many years ago

if you listen very closely
you can hear
the agony of a piano, played.

each key giving a tiny gasp
at the striking,
pouring out tones and partials
a little gush of blood
the strings shivering,
stilled by the steady smash of
a felt clapper

beauty in the collected sound
of its wounds

the sweet, sudden violence of
flesh on ivory.

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