He made me sing

Shackled to the accordion

Were my words for him,

Let alone my thoughts of oughts

Hid the mic from within.

Was

Tossed into his world,

Stumbling upon my guts

Inquiring if it was enough

Or worthy to share with him.

He was the version of the song that I could never get right,

For fear that my chords could not vocalize the might with which he needed to be sung. 

Air filling my chest

Never having met the

Breath that I could never catch from thoughts of him…

For one, 

I was the universe but he was the space surrounding me;

Two,

I was the sun but he was beyond the planets clouding me;

And Three,

I was the need for feeling

But he was the power caressing me. 

So he stepped to me and taught me a song that I could forever sing freely…

And finally, both he and I could hear it.

You see, 

He made me sing. 

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