Feb 1, 2024

Mom
the ache. it remains. flowing through the length of me. Like breathing. in, out. up, down. i listen. i yearn for my name, a soft touch, tenderness. a chord of life, of love. the music of you. play for me again. for me.

finales should be grand, bold, not wisps of legs shivering under a bland quilt. eyes staring with no words. discordant notes with no melody. the length of you melding into the mattress- a last symphony for souls without song, no music for the last audience.
listen…

ah, but some notes no one hears, playing only for the musician’s own ear. as your voice fades for me, may it rise in each cell, a multitude singing for you each note of your life, each refrain a part of you and all you are, once were, will be. a crescendo of you, Mom. a beautiful woman who loved and was loved and forever will be.
music.

you are every note you ever played.
and what a masterpiece, your melody.