we were alone in the dark behind those pitch black curtains and I silently watch you play the piano.
even though it was dim and I could hardly make your face, I could see you beaming with a smile, surprised because you still remember the recital your teacher taught you six years ago.

you're just a boy who spends most of his weekends in lounges and bars, playing pool and shooting endless smoke rings from your mouth like a thousand secrets.
tossing bottles of cheap alcohol, causing it to spill out like unspoken words pouring out of your tired mouth.

but when I'm sitting beside you, watching you pound away on the piano, I don't see you as the guy who picked a fight with a tattooed guy in the club.
instead, I let the notes of the piano capture my emotions and I can't help but wonder if you play the guitar or maybe the drums, too.

I so badly want to talk to you, but I prefer to stay as strangers.
I like it better when I don't know you, some things are just better left unknown and I prefer to stay curious and interested.

I'd rather watch you giggle to yourself as your fingers slipped in between a recital.
I'd rather exchange shy smiles and glances in the hallway.
now don't get me wrong,  I so badly want to talk to you, but I can't articulate my thoughts when those playful fingers are tracing secrets into my thighs.