Words do not come to my lips
Unable to explain what I feel
I turn to music
Melodies that my fingers are blessed to produce
My head is full of notes, treble clefs, and sharps
Wanting to be perfectly placed on a staff in 4/4 time
Sitting at the piano the black and white keys stare back at me
As if they know something that I don't
Poised with high wrists
My hands dance across the keys
Graceful the notes escape the keys from the piano like
a ballerina doing a pirouette
Words cease to exist when music can explain it all
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