Yes I’ll turn the page for you
Your fingers move too fast to grab hold of things material
Paper is rough and your skin will burn on it, the air cold burning on your face
Your nails are long from too long loving me and nothing else
But I could hear in your voice that the music was still there
That the music must slowly come out in breaths while you sleep
     in sighs
     in your whispers
          your whispers are trills like birds which sit singing when your eyes open from dream
     my words only cry your music
     Your fingers wrap around my hand
     leave their touch as my nails turn white

I see your eyes
No rust has set on your joints
For too long they have been dry from sweat
     wet only from tears

You read a language which I cannot
You speak a language I can only just begin to understand
But I will again lay at your feet and drink it in
     loving you.