?

[girlonfire]

Typing frenzy,
'You only type with one hand?',
Yep,
I reply,
Can't do anything with two,
I just refuse to,
Dad's playing in the back ground,
Harmonic mellodies,
Making it up,
As he goes a long,
And his eyes close,
Caught in the thrill,
Suspended in the movement,
The sound,
You see he's not really playing,
Just carressing each note,
Stroking them with fingers,
Skin like leather,
From a lifetime of guitar,
Of making things,
And he'll get lost in it,
Won't realise the house is burning,
Won't realise he is dying,
'Till he smells the piano dying,
Fumes of anient mahogany,
Dad is with his his music,
As i am with my writing,
He always told me that,
Compares everything with what he loves,