The Only Lonely Tune

A Collaborative Effort with Sara Weaver

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He licks his lips, presses his tongue gently
over the reed.

Coaxing a tune
that would not move, he blows into his instrument.

It is in that instant that love engulfs his fingers
and he pushes out a sad tune that has
not had any time to manifest into its true calling —

But, here he finds it. He smooths it into
new birth. Showering it with sensation and

The tune leaves the saxophone dripping
with decades of condensation that
never had a home.

Triggering the notes, howling and begging the
tune's fading voice drifts
only to find deaf ears, ears that are plagued
with the time of day and the sprint from A to B,
ears that rush to forget the sense of yearning
for the saxophone's story.

The voice sparks and dies on footsteps,
the echoing of chaotic noise,

Feeling the rhythm, the soulful melody,
his minor key wails a hum from the instrument's throat,

and he sways in recognition of
mourning pitch that hopes to rise.

A story too clear and too beautiful to ignore,
the saxophone breathes in life and

eagerly exhales the words, splattering the ground
with a storm of
piled consonants and vowels,

strings of words that were meant to be told,
to be heard, meant to be remembered,

The once bluesy tune that reached the heavens
is sentenced to life in purgatory.


Author’s Note: Over the next two months, I will be selecting some of Medium’s youngest and finest writers to collaborate with each week. They need to be heard. They support us. We must support them. Sara Weaver was fifth, Alex/asha(dear heart) please get ready ❤.

Written by

I’m more than breath & bones, I’m nectar in waiting — Owner ACG •Editor PSILY •Writing for the cosmos. •

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