The Final Show
I can’t see beyond the iridescent glow of lights—
forming this unworldly silhouette around his body.
Yet, I can see him:
the shapes of his every breath,
steadily outpaced by his heart,
which could only hope to match mine—
moving at unsurpassed speeds.
I see his neck;
the steady fluctuations
as beautifully gentle words
dance their way past his caressing lips.
I see slight quivers
in the way he mouths the melodic phrases.
They float through the air.
“Just stop your crying…”
As his hands carefully press its keys,
the piano lets them down:
a quiet submission followed by an unfeigned cry.
Everything seems to have left us together here.
It’s a sign of the times…
my thoughts whisper back.
I lean forward,
close enough to feel every note embrace my chest.
It slows my pulse—now rhythmically beating in suit with his every utterance.
His breath warms the content tears in my eyes,
and as I shut them,
the light hiding away,
I hear only him… as though reborn,
“Welcome to—”
The Final Show
Copyright © Saeed Samra | Year Posted 2022
|