poetry

it wasn't at all like i imagined.
it wasn't tense, it wasn't staccato

it was if you were writing on the keyboard
a languid legato of notes
hesitant, lost, tentative.

i had dreamt of more anger.
more power. of thumping keys and jerking shoulders.

but your fluiditiy was jarring.
it was almost.
identical to when i play my words out on paper.

if i closed my ears
and felt my way to that thinnest of whispers
carried by the notes you played,

i could read your words
as clear as any poem.

you're as much a poet as me.