snowy night starry bright but not too cold
we were all in the elegant parlor of the mayor’s home
snooty velvet looking curtains with furniture
that looked like it wasn’t meant to be sat on
but we did anyway
listening to an up and coming young pianist
dressed in red spaghetti strap dress
flowing blonde curls falling on her creamy shoulders
she was a real beauty and she could play
passionate enough to melt a polar glacier
she was supposedly playing a piece by Rachmaninov
I say supposedly because I like Rachmaninov
and know a lot of music of Rachmaninov
but I’d never heard of it; but it did sound Rachmaninovish
so I presumed that it was and I was not enlightened to it
the evening went on…I started thinking of us as a couple
like there was any chance that could happen
me writing my poetry and her practicing her scales
and practicing and practicing and practicing
I was wondering if we’d ever have any time to go
to the movies, restaurants, or take long walks on the beach
then I remembered dating an aspiring model
‘dating’ would be an exaggeration
she had to get plenty of sleep
didn’t want to be in the sun (I was fine with that)
carefully watched what she ate and when
worked out-got plenty of exercise
went to modeling jobs
which left little time for anything else really
but she did have a nice personality
so I let her down easy (LOL)
