Who Hears You

Do not play your piano with the window open, especially when the sun is retired. It may be that you serenade something unclean. There are notes strong enough to draw a contract from thin air; the signatory of which would require a thousand mouths to describe. Consent has a resonance and invitation lives inside of a feathery pitch. Most are familiar with that velvety sound which sedates raging beasts. The right instrument can even pull leviathan into negotiation. A cobra is drawn out of his basket against his conscious will. The vibration of commanding melody has inked a deal with the viper's soul before he had the wherewithal to become hooded. You half understand the magical element of sheet music. Even as your lyrics feign ignorance, they bind great swaths of the wilderness. Be careful. Not all things are responsible a known kingdom and phylum. There are things that make a hula-hoop of our conventions. We only imagine ourselves to be their peers. Yet it only takes one playful hip toss to disabuse us of that harmful illusion. Any herald that plays up the notion of a consort of equals is overcome by utterly dizziness. These are beings that we help to generate unwittingly like a static shock. However, they surf upon the crest of our most sophisticated understanding only to play a fool. They will toy with your sentimentality. Ghostly usurpers of vital energy will enthrone themselves in the objects and powers of your most desperate covetousness. Dial every key with the knowledge that clever malevolence will give ear to it. You may be inspired, but ask who's breath it is that conjures the image and skill to conceive. Not all partnerships can be dissolved. Theaters can turn into stadiums, just like a muse can turn into an immovable prince exacting an intolerable tribute. So before lifting the piano cover, close the windowsill.