(turns out it is)

a love song to tune

i am useless with an instrument 
folding sheet music into paper stars
a flute hanging limp and haphazard in my fingers
i know all the positions but the notes do not come anyways

and then, 
my voice alone 
quivering in the empty air of the music room 
choir auditions silent in nature despite their implications
a piano unoccupied by hands 
she watches me 

and it's been 
since i've heard nothing but my own voice ringing out 
years upon years of choir 
washed away by neglect and creeping nerves 

this is another chance. 
an email,
i would like to invite you to be a part of choir
an olive branch, 

behold, laura, choir member once again

i sing not only to echoing shower tiles 
and the remembrance of easy rhythms 
but to the person i used to be 

and the things i have worked hard enough to preserve 

and to resuscitate. 

The End

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