in the grey

You were watching me.

I saw you.

You were wondering-

I saw that too.

It would have been easy to ask,

and you could have, but you already know-

yes, i’m watching him,

the melodic movement of his fingers.

I close my eyes, think about the keys-

black and white,

moving up and down-

so graceful so simple,

makes me long for something minimal,

something like the black or the white.

 

Something

besides the grey,

grey matter in my brain,

where the melody lives,

where an image lives-

a simple kiss,

a dress in white,

a car in black.

Sometimes…

it hurts to think about it,

and most times I don’t,

until the melody starts,

and his fingers move

on those keys-

the black and white keys,

while I’m stuck in the grey-

in the grey matter,

the part that holds on,

the part that finds him when I close my eyes,

that runs with him in dreams,

like two kids in a field or something

sentimental and sappy like that.

And if you’d have asked,

I would have told you that,

but you didn’t

so nevermind.

Nevermind.

©Rk.baker 2012

 

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