The haunting melodic chimes of each piano key pierce through my heart like shards of glass, falling slowly and beautifully from a window frame. I cannot feel the twinge of each individual stab. Instead, I feel their rhythm as they collaborate to wound me so superbly. They sometimes overlap just so, causing the minute sanguine feelings I have left to pour out onto the floor with each swift movement of your boney fingers. Your digits glide across the face of ivories like they used to glide across the small of my back. Softly, they move to form shapes, and beautiful music, but the impression your prints leave is palpable enough to make my heart burst, filling the room with the echoes of my cries.