Untuned Pianos (Poem)

Be assured of this, shadowed companion —
If you have heard me speak,
You have not heard me speak.

My voice, in your head,
Is your voice in a foreign register;
Yours is mine from a different throat.

I describe my dreams and give you slant-rhyme images
Never the same though in a common universe
Your biography of me is not written by my hand,
(Though the forgery is at times impressive)
And so is incomplete
My colors are your colors blended into almost me-ness
Stained by all that is you

But not stained like ruin or desecration
Stained like glass, like a window
A mosaic I could not have made,
You could not have made

No one soul can see its own hue alone

If I have heard you speak,
I have heard myself speak.

Two enmeshed voices
Two old pianos with chipped wood and broken keys in all different places
and much to sing about.