Magic You.

She sat and watched his fingers, floating against the black and white, each note a sparkle, each pause, a time to catch her breath.
With her between his arms, his fingers on the ivory keys, he smiled at her quiet amazement, and softly kissed her head.
Her fingers reached out to touch his, nimbly skipping along the blacks and the whites, the sharps and the minors. Miss.
Too fast. She laughs. He does too. And then, he closes his eyes. His unshaven face against the back of her head, against her tousled hair.
They breathe in each other, and the music stops.
Wrapping his arms around her, he presses his face against her back. And there time stops.

They remembered how months ago, the frozen moment was present. The glint in their eyes, the light in their heart, the magic in the air. How they smiled, and laughed carelessly, thinking of what was to be. While now, with the music frozen in the air, they quietly think of what could have been.

piano.jpg
Tamelyn, Flickr

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