piano girl

from an image published on Aufschnitt which I found in The Sunday Muse‘s Archives (#244)

when I squat
 the piano wood creaks

and darkness

I am the wall 

and my mind
smells music

if she comes in

I hiss at her
black as cats

her eyes
are frayed blue silk
she has looked
too often 
at the terrible

her face 
pulled into jugs
of pusillanimous skin

my spit on her
rancid cheeks

she says
the piano holds demons
and so I sing with it

I am a cracked vase 
my only weapon

a song of dead branches

I see them 
sprout from my mouth

8 thoughts on “piano girl

  1. I never know how to interpret the silences either, Worms; some posts take time to get picked up; I know one of my cancer ones took ages and I got anxious ; what drew me to your post was one, it was you so always worth a look at; secondly the title — I actually follow a blog called ‘Piano Girl’; and thirdly, the stunning image —

    Liked by 1 person

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