Video: “Rachmaninov prelude 23-5” by Evgeny Kissin. Enjoy!

Everyday I sit down at the keyboard.
My fingers move frantically as I try
to write about you. Losing the moment
in faraway sunsets -- draped in ochre liner
and indigo brows -- I dream like a child
who wishes for madness to pass over
the night, like lambs to the slaughter of day.
We aren't two peas in a pod, but two
squares of different sizes, butting each others
borders into a wall of our resistance...
Where love finds devotee's hiding in music
of melodious drama, causing kisses
to linger upon lips. There, ever wanting,
tranquility rises like mist in mourning.


© 2009 Sara Coslett


Note: Mourning spelled as intended.