Looking at your face,
I hear the refrain of
Rachmaninoff’s Symphony No. 2
The violins’ soaring melody is severed
as soon as you leave.
Looking at your face,
I hear the refrain of
Rachmaninoff’s Symphony No. 2
The violins’ soaring melody is severed
as soon as you leave.
By the clouds, by the stars
I am enclosed
Rachmaninov lifts me from the cement below
Whispering in my cold ears
His orchestra soars
Matching my magnified heartbeat
Half way down the path
My doppelgänger shadows smirk
I fear that I’ll turn around, hands in pockets
To see my own night-time figure peering back
My dark imaginings,
The gothic moon above,
Pulsing strings and deep blue dread
Beams down in Russian black
Everything crescendos
Until I feel my keys
And see the sodium street-lamps
Guide me to my door
With their golden, unblinking eyes