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Part of the Series: ruined hands: a concerto that ate its pianist

In the Series Group of: Books

I. adagio: inhale on ivory

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Summary:
movement I of ruined hands

left hand drops
before I even think
like a reflex
low note
then another
stones into deep water
ripples climbin my spine
faster than sound can name them

wrist turns without hesitation
muscle memory
sharp
efficient
polished reflexes
taught by someone else’s rhythm
the chord lands
green
blue
bruised
color I taste in the back of my throat
thunder waitin for somewhere to strike

right hand hovers
tight tremor in my fingertips
desperation tryin to stay elegant
even tho it’s starvin
and then
it falls
one thin note
silver twistin in motion
bright
cuttin thru the quiet

pedal down
full
heel locked
no half measures
no clean edges
sound bleedin outward
oil on water
too much ache to stay contained
too much beauty not to spill

the piano drags me beneath it
pulls breath thru me
heart in tempo
shoulders syncin to pulse
hands spreadin
wings forced thru skin
confessional strikes
I didn’t plan to make

chords thud
footsteps in a house
built from memory
faint
heavy
hauntin by design
and the keys are breathin back
wantin more
askin deeper
and I give
and give
without thought

the music takes what it wants
and I just try to keep up
hands shakin
pulse off tempo
still reachin for the echo

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    2 COMMENTS

    1. Powerfully penned, 253. Excellent write my friend, feels like the muse gets what she needs in the end. I couldn’t pick a verse though, because they’re all fucking tight. Nice work. Appreciate you.

      Damian

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