Silver – stanza 21.3

At one end of the room, a music student
Paid his debts by playing for the entertainment
Of the club’s patrons, an eclectic selection
Of classical and contemporary pieces mingled
With folk songs, both local and foreign
Indulging the student’s field of study
“Here’s one from the new world,” he declared
Sixteen bars in, Malinov went white
“What is it, dear?” asked Tasha
Malinov dismissed her with a lie. It was
Their way but Tasha wasn’t buying it
“I demand that you tell me the truth.”
Malinov smirked, knowing how many
Times he had made that very demand of her
Without her budging in the slightest from her
Silence, so he told her another lie, which she
Accepted but he couldn’t help wondering
If she knew perfectly well what he heard
From what he knew, reading into her stony
Admissions, Tasha had known Silver for much
Longer than his mere four hundred years
Her voice sang so clearly, so directly in
The simple composition rendered weakly
On a poorly tuned instrument, how could
Tasha have not recognized Silver there
And know it at once, what it meant to him
But Malinov said nothing to Tasha and readied
Himself for a journey abroad. Tasha knew
There was nothing for them to discuss

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
This entry was posted in books, fiction, literature, novels, personal, poetry, writing. Bookmark the permalink.

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