Keys to a home
By Isabel Keleti
By Isabel KeletiPublished 3 years ago • Updated 2 years ago • 1 min read
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Photo by James Zwadlo on Unsplash
For every piano key pressed
the floor gives way
to fallen rose petals, floating
like feather-light droplets
from figmented clouds, muting
the bleakness below—
•
At the height of this pianistic peak
are depths of a silent crater, vast
ash-ridden, hardened by time.
dilapidated crevices
serve as reminder of aged
flaming fury, which once
spit, ripped, burned
through my core
•
now smothered
by accumulating floral tones,
disguising a fearsome descent
so as not to fall again,
to seek the essential
the only way to create
a home
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