the next day begins

cold hands, cold feet
and I sit in
the dining room, unclothed,
drinking my tea without
sugar and playing my
piano out-of-tunely.

smell like always fabric
old, unwashed blankets from
the closet (my family)
warm hair brushes my
shoulders and collarbone, eyes
closed, humming along besides.

tears spring up, I
remember being against his
chest, his hot hand
flat on my belly
I want, I want,
curling fingers, wispy steam.

sunlight eyes on skin
I am pale, freckled,
a detriment, a blot
on the keys waiting
to be uncovered, and
a well-tempered clavier
is always there, there.
--

take two:
Now I sit in
the dining room, unclothed,
drinking my tea without
sugar and playing my
out-of-tune piano.
Cold hands, cold feet.

I smell, like always,
of fabric, unwashed blankets
from the (family) closet.
Warm hair brushes my
shoulders and collarbone, eyes
closed, softly humming along.

Tears suddenly fall. I
remember being against his
chest, his hot hand
flat on my belly.
I reach out, fingers
curling, for steam wisps.

Sunlight lays on skin
which is pale, freckled,
a detriment, a blot
on the keys waiting
to be uncovered; and
a Well-Tempered Clavier
is playing, always playing.