Her fingers bounced
– or tackled –
the keys, trying to find a noise,
a sound that made her remember,
– or nothing –
that gave her some sense of where she was,
where she could be.
The right key
– chime –
When we woke up happy?
One, two, three –
Soft white blankets and soft white bodies,
mingling in some romanticized youth.
Flowers in the hair, flowers everywhere
Fingers off keys
Fingers on keys Hot
When she hit the right key, she was there again;
fingers in his hair.
And that was happy.
That was flowers everywhere.