Skip to content
About

Leaning Into The Afternoons

Ruminations while sitting at the piano on a rainy April day

1 min readEvergreen

I dare not speak of her, lest my words corrupt what remains of her perfection.

(the memory of her purity, all of it, rests untouched within me)

I sit at the piano and reflect on what was.

(i touch the keys she once feathered, and feel her)

Of the moments she sat here.

(her touch— a lesson I never finished learning)

And we were happy.

(i always only wish her happiness)

Together.

(together)

Her.

(Us.)

I .

Enjoyed this? Join the newsletter.

New essays and notes straight to your inbox.

Newsletter coming soon — stay tuned.