Untitled

Ernest O. Ogunyemi

—after Leavv

the pianist makes his fingers mourn,

a drop of water.

the grasshopper flaps its wings—

far away

the dummerboy kicks the pedal, hits

the lips of the snare— far away

a drop of water, Why have you been away?

memory is a painful singer, why have you been away from me?

the pianist mourns the girl he saw once at the train station 

and fell in love with and never saw again.

the drummerboy lost his mother when he was six,

so he pedals and hits softly, but audibly, as though 

his hands still hurt 

from the scalding done by grief, but he must 

send a message to the gone— far away

the piano mourns 

the lips that left without saying Goodbye—

far away

` under a night sky devoid of stars, 

the saxophonist longs for a body, 

the sax knows pain as a first language—

far away

we quiet our bodies this way—

we turn down desire till 

the heart is 

a dreamy little 

animal without 

a 

voice