Tag: piano

Crayon drawing showing a beautiful young red-haired woman with freckles

All I wanted

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski1 Comment

When I was young, I wanted to be bold again and again
and write a verse, or better yet, a song.

When I was young, I wanted to hear your giggle
as we switched the dust jackets of Walt Whitman’s books
to pass them off as Jackie Collins’.

When I was young, I wanted to name all the constellations
that illuminate your face so that no one ever again would dare to say
they’re just freckles.

When I was young, I wanted to build a house out of the finger strokes
on the keys of your piano and my typewriter, so we could furnish it
with the gentle brushes of fingertips over lips.

When I was young, I wanted to believe we would never end up
among the Kramers, Hillards, and the like.

watercolour of a couple listening to a turntable

The last waltz

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski2 Comments

Waking up to Tom Traubert’s Blues
was never meant to be anything more
than a provisional unction
plastered over my troubled little I,
but with each hoarse waltz with Matilda,
my fingers became addicted
to the gentle brushing of the piano keys.

When I played it for you that morning,
you compared it to a glass of Chardonnay;
for me, it has always been more
like the rich savour of sun-dried tomatoes
bathed in sunflower oil,
but when you laughed in amusement at this,
the turntable stopped mid-word,

or perhaps it was us no longer present,
already honing the past.