Sonata

Moonlight waltzes in
Between the sighs and short whispers
Of love and fear and hope.

Soft keys play but not like the children
When the light is soft and waning.
It hangs heavy. And lingers.

But it speaks. Not in a language
Of words or actions or gestures or sound 
That is ever heard aloud.

Deep within, it penetrates and haunts
Even the rooms that were locked.
The dance consumes.

As dawn arrives with full intention,
The song of the moon penetrates.
Deeper and fuller than ever before.

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