i knew you were listening,
behind your sunglasses
your eyelids weren't resting.when i stopped, you looked at me,
you asked me to replay it,
but i didn't, i thought you hated it (me).walking away, you followed me.
i wanted you to hear the notes
coming from the piano.you leaned your body against the door
and i loved it.
was it bach, liszt or busoni?
YOU ARE READING
summer 83 & peaches
Fanfictionif elio perlman had written poems about the summer of 83...