What are you listening to?
Your heartbeat.
What is it saying?
It's singing. Singing a song I should know, because it seems so familiar.
How does it go?
Listen to my heart, because it is like the body of a violin and your heart is the strings.
Come closer. Hold me closer. Hold me tighter.
Do you hear it now? Do you hear the song in your own heart? Listen to mine, listen to its throbbing. It is repeating in near unison with yours.
Shhh, quiet a bit, your lips. Quiet your lips. Close your eyes because they are speaking to me even when your lips are closed. Let me kiss your nose so it doesn't hum a tune that I love. Quiet everything except your heart. So I can hear what I am singing to you. I know what I am singing, but I want to know, if your heart really knows.
Then come closer. I am bringing you closer, but you have to come closer yourself.
I am playing a violin. And now, now the piano comes up, very playful against the sorrowful violin. That's how I am feeling now. Sorrow and playfulness.
Because you don't want to leave but you have to.
Yes.... And when I am angry that I can't choose what I want....
You.... There, the bandoneón. Are you so upset?
No, just want to show you, exaggerating a little, that I am upset. It's closing, you hear that. But still I feel so far from you, as if the bando is still pulled apart.
Wrap your arms around yourself, make yourself smaller, so I can wrap all of you within me.
What do you hear now?
Just the violin now, your sorrow is reverberating in my heart. Slow a bit. I want to taste this sorrow. I want to see if ....
If?
If you're crying. With the bow sliding ever so slowly yet depressed so deep, I want to hear every bit of sound, every bit of your sorrow of having to go.
I am not sorry to go!
Then?
I am sorry I can't make the choice. I am sad that I can't have what I want.
Do you want me?
Why ask?
Don't play games.
We are not. We are listening. Can you really still your heart so it only vibrates to the beat of mine?
I don't know. What about me? You don't want to hear my piano? My violin? The anger of my bandoneón? And don't forget the bass.
You aren't making music. I already know.
What do you mean?
You can't. Your heart can't make its own music when its so close to mine.
Of course it can.
I will stop mine, then. I will stop singing this song for us. So you can sing one for us, or one of us. Go ahead. My attention is on you now. My musicians are resting, looking at yours.
I just want to kiss you. I miss your lips. The song you were singing was about lips. About a pair of wise lips, lips of knowledge, lips of experience, lips of honey, you said.
No, I said your lips were of honey, trying to kiss my wise ones. Now that's exactly what you're doing, repeating my song, still.
But I really want to kiss you. I can't even see you, but my lips will find their way to yours.
That sounds almost like a song, but I don't hear more, and definitely no music. And don't use your fingers to look for them. Leave your arms wrapping me, holding me. And don't kiss me with your lips, but first kiss me with the song of your heart.
Why so complicated? I am not in the mood to make songs.
Then you don't love me?
That's ridiculous. Of course I do. I am not a musician.
I am not, but we all are, our hearts all are. And we sing with love, our hearts.
So you doubt my love?
I think you do.
Fine.
Why are you not holding me tightly? Why are you loosening your love? Your warmth?
You are being mean.
I am not. I want you to look at me in this darkness with your heart. Look at me in your heart and let your heart speak in music.
I am sorry. Come back. I miss your warmth. I miss your scent. I miss the feel of your existence....
I think I hear your song. Faintly. But oh, now it's gone.
I am sorry.
It's all right. I want you to keep hearing mine, until you understand that you have that song too in your heart. And that song will be for the person you love.
That's you!
I hope so. But for now, listen to my heart. Do you hear the words?
Yes, your love for me is crying for me. But the music is joyful, giddy. And now you say....
I can hear it in your heart, repeating it, that my emotions are flying towards you. I hope you will receive it one day.
Come closer. Let's be quiet, our lips, our noses, our voices, everything. Listen to what I am hearing.
