Symphony of Pity

Canon in D

Accompanies our beginnings

“I couldn’t sleep so I wrote you this letter”

Nine words that tickled my little heart silly

Imagining your desk light flickering on

In the middle of the night despite your early mornings

Until its first aberrant C

Natural instead of sharp in Pachelbel’s piece

From which I should have heard the dissonance

Yet motioned for the song not to cease

Only to witness an epileptic pianist spiraling on stage

Spilling red wine on my white dress amidst the cacophony