at the piano

she sits, back
straight at the piano.
her hands touching
but not pressing
on the keys. her
long slender fingers
unmoving.
her eyes are closed,
her lips pursed.
she is trying to
decide. i am waiting,
i am patient. i can
sit there for hours,
or days, if need be,
before she begins
to play. i have
decided that it is
her music that i
want to hear, to
listen to, dance to.
to fall asleep
and wake up to.
i'm just waiting on
her to play. it's in
her hands. all of it.