It grew with
roots and a flaking
shell
until one day
steadfast and
tall, it allowed itself
to fall.
Trimmed and sleek
it found itself
forged into
another form.
Familiar beats
from far away
linked by lines
A gentle hum
at times
fevered
fast and clutching in
that hot and
wretched
urgent grasping.
It has been
known that
from that hand on
this curve
the sweetest song
would sigh.
Tuned by gentle
unfounded friendship;
notes pure and clear
like an honest
eager bell.
In a dear and
fragile place
where noise
can only celebrate
these secrets lie
concealed
in silence.
