my fingers rest above the piano
and their shadows trace my presence
upon its ivory white keys. i
inhale, my fingers rising gently, and i
exhale, pushing into the keys,
ringing several notes at a time.
if i press with more force, i’ll bring about
life in the piano itself;
its voice sharpens at accents and
its breath quickens at staccatos.
it drapes the music around itself with elegance
and takes strides with its chin held high.

the piano depends upon me for expression,
and i depend on it for my
purpose and passion.
music becomes alive within me,
pacing my breaths and
counting my steps.
we’re inseparable.
we take another breath.
we breathe out and harmonize again.