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my fingers are warm. The keys are cool
Stepping up and down, up and down, left and right.
There's a beat -- a steady pulse I can feel in my fingrtips.
It echoes the beats of my heart -- in waves
The pulse makes my fingerprints swell, then sink back into the skin with the moving of my blood
My fingers are quick, but they release color
a piano's not just black and white anymore
A sharp biting d like yellow streams
and a cool soft g like an echo of blue
Sharp, flat, mix in some gray-- soft stone gray
of the plunk, the bounce, the drop. The pitch.
Just one note can be enough.
Enough to run its color through the very heart of me.
©2009-2010 ~willowghost
:iconwillowghost:

Author's Comments

My deepest love.

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:iconbiblegeek:
i like the usage of punctuation and capitalisation in this. it's different, but not distracting. and the concept is cool. i've never played the piano or been in any way musical, but your usage of colours appeals to me as an artist and a writer, and it makes me feel as if i can almost understand intrinsically what it must be like.
:iconwillowghost:
Sit down sometime and just plunk out a couple notes... it's amazing how theraputic it is, just hitting the keys. As for punctuation and capitalisation, I hardly do anything with it. It just sort of flows out that way and I barely touch it. I'm glad it suits the poem, though.

--
Listen to the Music of the Night
:iconhaxerbek:
this is beautiful, I love it

--
The beginning is the most important part of the work~ Plato

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March 20, 2009
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