"Music to my ears..." she says conducting a symphony of non-existent musicians and instruments. She closes her eyes once more and continues her arm waving. I see that it takes every ounce of strength in her tiny body to not yell at me for openly laughing at her. "Like the top string of the lyre.." she explains after seeing my exaggerated mimicry of her movements. "I thought it was supposed to be violins in this track," I say laughing. She steps closer to me, standing on her tippy-toes and still only reaching my shoulder, "Well mister piano man we can't all be as gifted as you, now can we?" I love when she gets all flustered, when her comebacks are delayed, but mostly when she laughs about it. I often catch her laughing at herself when she thinks no-one sees. I love when she smiles and her eyes perk up and best of all when she kisses me, like now, pulling me down to her, claiming my lips and forcing every ounce of passion from her to me.
I watch her sleep, her breathing's deep and peaceful, every exhalation pushing her hair from her eyes. My hand reaches out to the hair, to tuck it behind her ear, so that I can get a better look at her serene face. I move closer to her form wishing I was as light as a feather. "Gently, gently," I remind myself so as not to interrupt her slumber. We lay side-by-side, face-to-face. I stop my inching when she stirs slightly. "Damn did I wake her?" I ask myself. Her body seeks the comfort of mine, just as I sought her, moulding her body to mine, lacing her legs with mine, breating in the air I breathe out. Her eyes flutter and I hope it's a good dream; I hope she's dreaming of me. I close my eyes ready for sleep to kidnap me and smile with surprise as her lips touch mine. I hear her whisper low in my ear: "No-one's as gifted as you at loving me, mister piano man..."
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