At the touch of a pianist... i found my strength!

Those expert fingers sliding across my skin, my shoulder, my back my arms, my hands, my fingers.. As if searching for the right note..
Looking for the perfect combination on keys to play a melody into my heart.
So eager to please, so persistent, so keen to find the right chord to strike, to make my heart leap.
Hard to resist, feeling notes being played that sound so perfect but a melody that is sadly discordant.
Those expert fingertips, so sensitive and beautiful, my skin feels honored to have felt them, my heart feels sad to have rejected them.
But the tune was wrong, those hands will fly away and all that i will be left with, would be the piercing cry of a shattered heart string.
The strength to deny the joys of being played by those expert fingers.. i found.
Drained the very last drop of strength from my being to stop that expert touch.
Those expert fingertips, the perfect hands, were in mine once, even for a second.
So when i see them sliding and gliding across the keyboard, i won't be jealous of those black and white pieces of wood.. anymore.
For i know what it feels like to be a piano, to be touched by those gifted fingers!
Maybe one day, when the time is right, i shall feel the touch of a pianist again... and let myself be played.