Creased fingers pluck old strings
Closed eyes
Moving lips
Blackbird sound
Old skill brought back
Old song
Old notes
Old love and care and moments
Fingers play
In the dance of home
Invisible notes
Fly
Tickle my throat
My eyes
Wrapped in blankets
Warmth flows through me
Around me
In me
Out the window
‘Round the world
In my heart
The music sounds
For some reason
I cry
Closed eyes
Moving lips
Blackbird sound
Old skill brought back
Old song
Old notes
Old love and care and moments
Fingers play
In the dance of home
Invisible notes
Fly
Tickle my throat
My eyes
Wrapped in blankets
Warmth flows through me
Around me
In me
Out the window
‘Round the world
In my heart
The music sounds
For some reason
I cry
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
Zero_K
XXcrazy_amazingXX
emily.louise
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