The suffocating crescendo of the duet;
Its parts bound together by the warmth of the rope burn.

Sweet harmony tightening like the noose that took the breath with comforting despair.

Hanging lifeless as the conductor’s baton slices and cuts with the delicate downbeat of the surgeon’s scapel.
This song. Swinging gently like the diviner’s pendulum replying yes/no to the question unasked.

In this space the dissonance gently wakes.

This piece was the result of a short writing workshop by my friend Sue Griffiths. We were given musical terms as a stimulus to incorporate into our writing.

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