His Piano - Her Heart

His beloved piano.
She would watch him
Sitting for hours
Frustration melting
His fingers dancing over the black and white keys
Slowly his heart settling
Resolving
Determined for another day

His piano -- his most special possession
His other love gave it to him.
Wherever he lived the piano was the first object he put down

Now it was Nerdanel that was his beloved.
He would watch her as he played
He would speak with her as he played
She would sing to him as he played
Always he was happiest when he played

They built a quiet place
Hidden from drama and darkness
Fear and frustration
Each laid down something precious for the other.
She a fresh baked bread
And a bed to dream upon.
And he carefully sat down his piano.

They played side by side for hours.
No one knew.

When they were tired they would play.
When they were sad they would play.
When they were afraid of tomorrow they would play.
Side by side they would play.
A melody so well balanced and intricate with emotion.
His left thigh touching her right thigh.
The sixth sense of proximity reminding them of their love
Still they played and played on.
Side by side they would play.

The music streaming from their fingers
As tension disappeared like fading moisture on a rock in the sun
Individually they concentrated on their part of the music...
They barely looked at the other unless their hands touched
Then a quick look to acknowledge the other
A furtive smile before resuming with just one beat of change.

They played on
Side by side they would play.
Then one day he was gone.

The piano sat in their room
Quiet now
Each day she woke
Her eyes travelling to the piano first
She feared to touch it
Diamond-like motes of dust settled onto the surfaces

She resisted touching it,
Somehow unsure if it would play music without him to draw it

One day she could resist no longer
She sat there
The stool feeling as supportive as ever
Her hands folded one in the other one
Palms and fingers curled up
And that was all she could do that day
She sat there for hours
Thinking as hard as she could of each moment
Each Song
Each hope and dream they played
Believing he would somehow materialise

But he did not.
And she got up
And walked away.

She did this for weeks.
Sitting there
Day after day
Every morning
Every afternoon
Every evening
Till so late she had to sleep.

Holding her hands in her lap
Remembering his gentle touch and soothing words and his music
So numb and lost.

One morning she sat there.
She folded her hands in her lap
And waited for him once more.

Her fingers moved
And rested on the keys.
She began unconsciously to play his favourite song.
Then she played her favourite.
Then she played their favourite.
She listened as she played these shared favourite tunes.

Hoping in the playing he would be drawn back.
Play as she might and watch as she would
He did not appear...
She played on and on into the night
Into the next day, possessed with hope.
Playing till her fingertips passed blisters into bloody.
She played.

Then she stopped.
Her hands bleeding.
The keys covered in her blood and sweat.
A tear formed in her eye.
It rolled quietly and hopelessly
Very full and pregnant this tear
It fell in slow motion
Onto the white key near her exhausted right index finger
Where it landed, a little white spot shown through the blood.

Another tear rolled unstoppable from her eye
Hit another white key and a new white spot was seen.
Tears began to flow swiftly from her eyes.
She drew her hands, still bleeding, to her face
To bury her shame from herself for her disappointment.

And the tears flowed.
They flowed longer than the music had.
The keys showed white again
And then the piano began to fade.

She sat up slowly
Her eyes wide with the insistent tears that continued to flow
And watched
As the piano turned into a pale phantom.

She could not move, only watch.
Each part faded like the dusk fades into blackest night.
Her tears grew more heavy.
Her heart began to hurt
And she knew her heart was fading too.

It stands there still, that piano
Or the white wispy form of it
A phantom, weary from the patter of tears and hope.

Every day she wakes to stare at the piano.
Every day it greets her as this pale phantom.
Every day she wakes to touch the space between her breasts.
Every day her heart greets her as a pale phantom.
Now hope fades with each passing moment....
Until only death can bring her peace...
And she no longer plays his music or her music or their music.
She only stares at the fading piano.