Music

The music notes cling with all their might
to the thin threads of the staff,
hoping they don't fall and
get dashed to pieces in the vacuum below.

In this world we live in, it is enough to hope,
to grasp those ruler-straight lines
and sing the parts we are given with unflinching dedication.

But we long for moments when we are severed,
to cough into the darkness,
a furnitureless room with a thousand velvet pillows,
to eat our tiramisu and
set off sparks with our tongues.
To unharness the music notes from
their precarious positions
and let them curl up in our arms like sleeping animals.

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