by Sabrina “Souliél” Marcel

I hear the tension of violin strings Pressed fingers positioned to balance the released notes of this music from the pick-up beat. Tap counting to the next measure Sometimes it stops and repeats itself several times before going forward because that is the way this music was written. The frequencies are high The music is now shrieking The strings begin to feel like nails playing on a chalkboard. The violin is crying. We tore the music sheet And abandoned its rhetoric of promised love, and hope.

It’s become out of tune and the strings are worn out in need of replacement. It cannot recover its sound and birth music without any proper strings attached. We keep fiddling with this string and spell out the chords in majors F,A,C,E but they diminished and we cannot look upon each other any longer. I’m hanging onto the remainder of this song, waiting for that crescendo of enlightenment to come bursting in my soul to shows us that we belong with each other. The key never returns to major. The violin continues its descent. The music fades. Then it just stopped.

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