From the Balcony He Watched Music Pour from Silver
He did not speak. He heard the simulacrum of sine wave enlist his sadness. Apart from her he felt the music take her place. She took a sample of the melody, released it to the room. They each would walk away.
The place from which he watched was never filled with tune. He sensed the needle draw the faculty of hearing forward, form a line from her to him.
She noticed how the music left her to become the music and the instrument he had been hearing all his life. Along the staves a stammer left the little hill of whole notes clear, considered full, as if to parse a sostenuto.