Sospire

The space between them.
When everything is possible, when nothing has happened,
When I am not myself, I am the music that hasn't begun yet.
You wait, I wait, the string waits,
And in this waiting we are complete.
Now.
The bow moves, the string speaks,
The note that waited finally arrives.
Not mine, ours, shared like air, given like breath,
Taken like silence.