Your first language after heartbeat:
Music. This foreign tongue, human,
is hard. It works slow and strange
in the mouth, bitter in truth and lies,
its grammar convoluted; the idioms
of face and body incomprehensible
to the non-native, but (carelessly
coached) you tried.
Until you stopped.
“Shut down,” they said: cold divorce.
Of course your heart never closed,
God knows you bled all unspoken
through chord and melody, but the
other, so rarely used, fell dissonant
at her feet.
Une ode à la musique…
… all unspoken
through chord and melody…
Made me think of a famous Hugo’s quote:
“Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.”
― Victor Hugo
Merci une nouvelle fois Jennifer pour tant de grâce.
F.
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Maybe I had that Hugo quote floating around somewhere in the back of my mind…wise man, Hugo. Thank you for your beautiful comment.
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Heartbreaking–“God knows you bled all unspoken” is a perfect line.
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Yes, a heartbreaking circumstance that really got me thinking about how we communicate and share ourselves. Thanks for your comment. ❤
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All I can say is WOW, so much pain.
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