The keys reverberate an echo of my phalanges which used to press down on the weight of
each key. Keys each unlocking the vibrations of my heartstrings. I have not touched the
piano in millennia. Churning from human to liquid, slowly my feet have become a stone.
Later or later I too fear I will become stone. As long as I am kept from playing, I will
become stone. As no longer the echoes of my songs kept the blood of my tubes and horns
alive. Without the song, I will not live but a few more lives long.