Playing Chopin

With my left hand I push lightly cool ebony and ivory of cords here and there
and they respond by illuminating the surrounding space…

      With my left hand I touch cautiously porcelain fragility of your shoulder
      and watch your head turning towards me and I can se expression on your face.

I run through physicality and firmness of keys with my right hand
to uncover melody that was hidden there…

      I run through folders of your dress to unbutton it with my right hand
      to uncover your body that was prisoned there.

With my left hand I touch cautiously porcelain fragility of cords for you to hear.
My right hand finds its way through abstractness of notes…

      With my left hand I push lightly cool firmness of your breasts and I drag you near
      with my right hand that finds its way to your back and it arches.

My hands never cross each other, but the harmony they create is perfect…

      Your lips part slightly when you’re trying to listen to what I have to say

The harmony fills space and shimmers and hurries and stumbles and fades away…

      Your eyes convey me their own message with no way back, with no regrets.

We’ve never met…

and yet…