My black curves are stained
under white light,
and I wonder if that’s where
all the broken chords break.
The ivory spills over
thin strings and hammers
when his pulse
trembles with the triplets
of the treble clef,
when flats are tied by
a toccata of slurs.
He’ll reach to the right,
without noticing my side,
pull his face away from keys
once notes become whole.
I let his fingers run faster
towards the end of his song;
I let his eyes wander
when fermata is done.
Author Bio:
On a rock called Guam, Evelyn Quiel plays classical music on the piano. Aside from musical escapades, she is active in the Korean martial art of taekwondo. She is currently majoring in English with an emphasis in Linguistics at the University of Guam.
under white light,
and I wonder if that’s where
all the broken chords break.
The ivory spills over
thin strings and hammers
when his pulse
trembles with the triplets
of the treble clef,
when flats are tied by
a toccata of slurs.
He’ll reach to the right,
without noticing my side,
pull his face away from keys
once notes become whole.
I let his fingers run faster
towards the end of his song;
I let his eyes wander
when fermata is done.
Author Bio:
On a rock called Guam, Evelyn Quiel plays classical music on the piano. Aside from musical escapades, she is active in the Korean martial art of taekwondo. She is currently majoring in English with an emphasis in Linguistics at the University of Guam.
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