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Liebestraum by Lilia Koll

My fingers gently resting on the Steinway,

the notes drift in

and suddenly, I’m carried somewhere else.

 

Somewhere where your name

echoes every note;

Somewhere where loving you

needs no courage.

 

Yet the music that ripples does not sound like Liszt,

nor does the ivory feel hard beneath my fingertips–

as if the keys themselves remember you.

In my thoughts of us,

I hear a symphony—

one only my heart can hear.

 

The keys mold into my hands,

holding me more tenderly

than you ever could.

 

But in this drifting light–

I imagine it's your hands that guide mine.

Your laughter rings clear,

a fragile note suspended,

that vanishes the moment I reach for it.

 

In that peaceful, cultivated vision,

You struck a chord in me that reached heaven.

But even here, in my dreams shaped of you,

the edges sharpen in,

and my vision blurs,

as tears trickle down my face, uninvited.

 

Because nothing this sweet

ever lasts long.

 

The melody crescendos,

and my pace quickens,

each breath a hammer in my chest

because the truth lies between the measures:

I am afraid.

 

Afraid that when the music dies down,

and the lights dim,

I’ll open my eyes, and

your seat will be empty;

the silent echo of your applause

fading into memory.

 

Afraid that you will become

the background hum of my life—

like a chapter that ended

far too soon.

 

So I linger in that reverie,

and pocket that time

of when I lived that dream of you;

unhurried,

begging that the morning never come.

The final chord hangs, trembling,

vibrating through my fingers, my chest.

But its resonance shimmers in the air

like a farewell

that refuses to leave.

 

As I close the lid,

and trace my fingers along the Steinway’s dark grain

to say my final goodbye,

I whisper my fears to the stars—

That our love was never built to last,

 

But as I turn to leave,

your voice finds its way to me,

soft as breath:

 

“Ah, my love,

But what if it does?”

 

And while your echo lingers,

the silence doesn’t feel so empty anymore—

it wraps me in your warm embrace, insisting:

Some music

And some love

Cannot be silenced.

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