Strings
When I’m about to cry,
I picture myself floating.
Ocean beneath me, and a sky above,
A cascade of rain painting my face blue.
I picture myself in an empty house,
Empty with the exception of just one thing,
A large grand piano, white in colour.
On it, Beethoven plays for me,
Moonlight Sonata—I dance barefoot
Lose myself twice at a time,
In a labyrinth of lucid cream curtains.
I picture myself here and there,
Sometimes I still sense him there, somewhere.
Sometimes the void loses touch with me
I chase it, call after it,
A shadow never loses touch with its bones,
Only a picture, I’ve painted it myself
Perhaps, my tears know a better place.