I find myself alone once again.
My fingers trace over the velvety smoothness,
ready to begin.
A soft slow push triggers a low sound.
Another push, another sound.
More pushing, light and soft.
No need to rush, tempo is key.
Traveling up, up, up until I reach the top.
Nowhere else to go.
The pounding starts.
Never wanting to stop, but somehow needing the end.
Both hands gliding, fingers aching.
Multiple sounds, all blended
The climax is nearing,
always coming at the same time.
Can I go any harder, any faster?
Nothing can distract me now.
Wrapped up in the moment, in the sounds,
I won't stop until I know it's time.
My skilled fingers bring a climax.
Sweat has formed on my brows, wet like my hands.
Then a slow, steady stop,
followed by a sigh.
My piano recital is over.