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Seats filled with the creators of quiet chatter

Impatiently waiting for an age old ceremony
A tradition as old as joy itself

Gentle vibrations
Music to the ears of the acquired listener

They sit and wait
Dressed in formal attire
Presenting themselves for his honor

Chatter
Chatter

Lights fade to black

Silence

The steps of
His grace

His black suit
His gently pressed pants
His pale slim fingers

His lover

...

Footsteps marked the stage while he drifted to his beloved

No need for adjustment
...
They knew each other all to well for such an activity.

His audience watched him take a breath

before

Their first kiss

Spindly fingertips graced their presence across her skin

...

The sensation of love blossomed through the air

Her soft lips spoke his memories

A song of nurture, misfortune, wrath, and redemption...

Sweet sorrow grazed the room

The wind of agony blew through the hair of onlookers

Reminiscent of the purple hyacinth
A blossoming bunch of color
With an enriched misery...

His story

A story never spoken before

...

And still
A story never to be heard of again

As the last moments passed, her song began to diminish

She opened her tender arms to the tears of the crowd
...

Finally

3 seconds

His final three seconds of understanding
Those seconds of silence
Sweat and tears shed

Those moments before

Before the grande finale.

It was over
His trembling came to its end
His story was over...

The crowd applauded and praised

Her solemn song lifted their souls
They couldn't grasp her music
Her gestures of love
And still they yearned for her touch
Without knowing, it was

His

Last goodbye.

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