Sometimes I listen
To not only the melody
But for the notes in between
The rests; the moments between seconds;
to me they sound like a symphony in every song
The moments ignored; the ones that bring the humanness back to something almost inhuman
the pianist’s fingertips brushing over frayed black and white keys to the right note,
The breath the vocalist takes before the octave change
The frets the guitarist’s fingers slide over before choosing the right ones for the chord.

Between the highs and lows, the harmonies;
can you hear the sort of vulnerability
The one that doesn’t lie in the music but the musician