Piano Solo

[to my dear friend Rubia Gardini who passed away. Piano player of our dream band, back when all our dreams seemed possible and we all dared to be who we wanted, even if we had no idea who we were]

it was morning
and everything was
going to happen
brush teeth,
wash face,
make coffee,
drink coffee,
enjoy coffee,
wash coffee machine,
make the bed in 30 seconds.
go workout out.

it was morning
and everything
happened differently.
my mom never calls at 8 am.
The voice in the other side
numb and apathetic "Your friend passed away".

I brushed my teeth,
the taste of the news nauseating,
I washed my face,
one, two, three times,
I made coffee,
extra strong, thinking it might help me,
be a little stronger too,
I drank it up,
salty of tears in little swirls
of my own denial, had it really happened?
I detested that taste,
so I peed,
sure my pain can be flushed away;
I left the coffee machine as it was,
half full. half empty.
I changed, into something,
I'm not sure what,
and threw the cover over the bed,
as I walked out, to go running,
as fast as I could.



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