Yochana
runs her slim
pale fingers
over keys
of the old
black piano,
the Mozart
sonata
coming to
life again,
but she sits
on the stool
a very
reluctant
pianist,
thinking of
Benedict
who had left
10 minutes
before hand
to go home.
Her mother
sits watching
her daughter,
how she sits,
the fingers
moving fast,
her body
moving slow
side to side.
Yochana
remembers
Benedict
hugging her
in his bed
(the guest bed),
kissing her,
their bodies
moving slow
close entwined,
listening
out in case
her parents' heard
any sounds.
Not so fast,
her mother
interrupts,
this part is
much slower.
Yochana
slows the pace
of fingers,
but the touch
of fingers,
Benedict's,
over her
still lingers.
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 3:14 AM UTC
Yochana
runs her slim
pale fingers
over keys
of the old
black piano,
the Mozart
sonata
coming to
life again,
but she sits
on the stool
a very
reluctant
pianist,
thinking of
Benedict
who had left
10 minutes
before hand
to go home.
Her mother
sits watching
her daughter,
how she sits,
the fingers
moving fast,
her body
moving slow
side to side.
Yochana
remembers
Benedict
hugging her
in his bed
(the guest bed),
kissing her,
their bodies
moving slow
close entwined,
listening
out in case
her parents' heard
any sounds.
Not so fast,
her mother
interrupts,
this part is
much slower.
Yochana
slows the pace
of fingers,
but the touch
of fingers,
Benedict's,
over her
still lingers.
