She stepped into the staring
light
into the middle of
the world
under the lacquer the veins
of her violin were shifting
she could see her eyes seeing
like fish in a bowl
the tunning of the orchestra
insinuated
about her

under her feet
rose an anthill
of numbness

She couldn’t muster herself
to blame the parents
to erase the place
out of awareness
anger
was the only door
she tried
wrestled with the handle
would not open then
it did
as she tried to exit something
someone
shoved her back
into music

______

Two Thirds North, February 2025