Refrain

Refrain

I’ve failed you, I know.
All the gorgeous rhythms
have been slipping and spiraling
down the staircase, thudding
with finality at the bottom.
The mythic fingers
have been furiously pulled
across the tinkling keys
creating nothing more than
ear-splitting noise.
You don’t want to listen anymore.

Why is it that some songs
lose their power when
you hear them too often?
The instant need to drag the needle
when you can’t bear another note
is overwhelming, even though
it had been your first choice
when your coin dropped in the slot.

I used to sing sweetly.
My voice, your heart, and the art
in the harmony would fill the air,
and our spirit, with canticles
and feather-soft ballads.
I’d close my eyes and
you would clutch my hand,
humming along, as you do.

My voice now cracks,
and hot tea won’t save me,
nor can any sort of
prolonged, thoughtful silence.
The chords are tight and strangled,
and though I can still make noise,
my voice doesn’t carry any more.

Clearing my throat
to let the words come,
only amplifies the discord
that vexes you.

Hands on ears,
tweet and twitter,
shudder and shiver,
our smooth harmony has been
drowned out and sunk
by a heavy, leaden dirge.
Silence would be
more welcome than this.

I’ve failed you, I know.
I stopped singing,
and now,
the song is over.