old piano, two

this was a lullaby to me once.
i played it back when the dark kept her soft hands
close bout my throat, to remind her to loosen her grip;
i played it when sunlight stole my breath
rather than politely taking it– when the dewdrops on my lashes
were stones, and not jewels.

this was a lullaby to me once.
under cover of its feathers
i began the long journey to flight,
though only recently had i ceased to fear
the wind behind me–
become convinced, finally, that
the intent behind its persistent shove was not to see me fall
but to help me soar.

this was a lullaby to me once,
was a little erotic;
but you made it a eulogy
and now it drains a little more of my color each time it plays.

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