No.
That's the wrong note.
My hands are trembling;
restart the song.

Fingers searching for
the right sound.
It seems like finishing is hopeless.
Until he places his hand over mine.
Guides me to the next note.
We play.

He plays an octave higher,
adding his own improvisation.
My fingers still shake, but he tells me
to keep playing.

Reaching a harmonious equilibrium,
he seems fascinated by my
strange sense of playing by ear.
He takes a break and presents me sheets
that I refuse to use.

Wondering how I play, he tests me.
Purposely making mistakes,
but saying it was all a part of his plan.
I can tell he's pretending to know
what makes me tick.
However, the influence shows
our style is different now.

This could go on forever
but I know it won't.
In the distance I hear a beautiful sound
echoing through my ears.
I falter, returning to play off key.
Majors to minors, white to black.
He leaves.
He heard the other song.

I look at the piano
and hear him close the door.
Left me to finish on my own,
I play.