How was I to know,
That a gentle, swift stroke
Of your bow would make me
Fall deeply in love?
At a time when my future was all planned out,
And my thoughts were full of textbooks and music notes?
Adulthood just beyond my reach,
Childhood barely behind me.
How would I have known,
That pizzicato could be so....fluent?
If you had not stood on stage
And played it directly to my heart?
School uniform reminds me
That you are still a boy, a mere teen,
Who can play out a thousand emotions
With just a pinch of your strings.
How was I supposed to know,
That you were completely oblivious
To my casual wonderings
And your desires did not equal mine?
Your hopes and dreams all laid out
Were figments of my imagination
And the tenderness that I detected within your soul,
Were deceptions from my memory.
I play the Cello.
You play the Double Bass.
So alike, yet too different,
To be the same.
