You played piano as I held your hands.
I felt your fingers glide across the keys,
striking my beating strings
like you were born for me to love,
and in that moment you were Mozart.
Ever since you’ve been Schoenberg,
causing discord that I can’t help but applaud;
music I laud as much as it hurts.
I know you didn’t want to learn piano
and I’m sorry I made you do so,
but nonetheless, you are a virtuoso.
© Sam Hunt, 2017