What Happens When It Doesn't Happen

One Hundred Twenty Two

Dear Anna,

You came home with me after school,

and you had always wanted,

to hear me play the piano.

So while we sat down on the shared bench,

I played for you,

all of your favorite songs.

And while my hands,

created peaceful beautiful noise,

yours created a raging fire,

as you dragged your fingers across my skin,

careful not to interrupt.

You told me that musical instruments,

made you fall,

in love.