It is possible to live in pockets
of existence, with but within the shared
fabrics, not altering the pattern but
having an impact on the general
shape the world’s clothing takes, making it bulge
or tear or shake in unnatural ways,
affecting the sway of reality’s
hips, the curve of her waist, the outline of
her figure in a lover’s hands, her grand
universal silhouette. You may be
her small musician. You understand the
right notes to strike into humanity,
and you play them from her pocket until
she decides she’s listened to you enough.

One response to “Piano

  1. Pingback: March 18th: The Aftermath | Brian McGackin

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