a cough in the audience, a light far too bright,
an itchy dress on a high-heeled mess.

she rests her fingers on the keyboard, ever so slowly.
silent notes echo in her ear.

her back straightens,
and on the pedal below,
her foot tenses


and it begins.

a minute and a half,
a fallen lock of hair, a held breath,
and a teacher, humming hushed notes under her breath.

she pours her heart into the music,
pressing every inch of her soul
into the beautiful melody.

empty notes on the sheet become undead.
and without testing their newfound wings,

they fly.

with every strike to the board--
A chord, C chord, G chord--

she falls in love with
the moment
the music,
the piano,

her joy.

eighty-eight keys
bring
infinite possibilities.