Today’s prompt was to use a musical / art term you are unfamiliar with as a point of inspiration. I liked this term. It means ornamentation in a musical sense – adding fiddly bits to make something beautiful. We do that in poetry writing too, so it seemed appropriate.

She never knew how to hold herself.

The lights were too bright and the

violet dress, so beautiful on the hanger,

felt scratchy on her skin and

pinched at the waist.

But when she heard the violin

play the ritornello she found she

could breathe again. 

The music took its

own shape.  She didn’t matter to it

at all – it came through her fully

formed, serpentine as it emerged

into the world. Light hid behind dark,

tin bright notes peeking out from

behind the gloaming double bass. 

As she sang colours fell from her. The

first verse was pink like a shell. 

It changed into a red,

robust as merlot, as it bled

into the refrain.

By the coda the song was

purple and then deep blue.

The colours found one another

and coiled, forming a

contrapuntal shade she had

never seen before.

She sang.

This was what she was formed for.

The world behind the song, the world

where she didn’t quite fit, faded

and she was alone inside the music.

Real life was waiting.  Let it wait.

Perhaps she could do this forever.