You sang a different song

Sunlight streamed in
As we lay side by side.

You were sprawled upon the white,
While I lay curled up on the black.

A different tune was played that day.
A tune which did not use us.
A melancholic note here and there,
Slightly haphazard.
Slightly undone.
It wasn’t our song.

A few moments passed us by.
A sparrow called out.

And I realized it was near us.
Too near.
Creeping onto our little haven.
I didn’t mind though.
It happened often.

I waited for us to be touched.
Gently.
Thoughtfully.
Not in a way that would defile us.

I waited for the familiar happy fifth.
Which was you.
And then the fourth.
Which was me.

I waited.
As the waning rays played along my edge.
And slid down my curve.

I heard it.
I heard the fifth.
I heard you.

I waited.
It was a ritual.
A norm.
The fourth after the fifth.
It had always been that way.

I waited.
Till the light faded.
Till it was all silent.
Till it was dark.

I lay.
All forgotten.