Piano People

Their tunes hit my ears, hit my heart. They’re back, they play. I’m curious, wanting for their story. I lean my body against the wall looking at the piano boy and his piano girl. Their fingers run over the keys, smoothly, easy, together. They sense my gaze. Her eyes meet mine. Sparkling eyes. His eyes fixed on the keys, afraid to miss a note. Their notes playful, cheeky. They play me their story. Their soul is healed. Soul mates with a perfect soul. His hands overlap with hers, soft fingers touching each other, soft giggles filling the corridor. Two backpacks on the ground next to the piano, two loving gazes into the room behind the glass. They come down here together, I can see them. They walk past my desk. Every day, same raven hair, same scar, every night, different clothing, different hair. They play together. Their song. Perfect soul.