all your words

were the notes that i read

on five lines,

a requiem of blue

you made just for me.

they moved my hands,

the knife, my baton.

and the blood marched forth,

my own red army choir

singing a grand coup d'vivre.

the seats remain silent,

invisible in the limelight.

and you, the brilliant composer

of such luscious tragedy.

you are nowhere to be found.