Vessel

Words collide with the barriers of the mind; physical touch fades with the warmth of skin.
But sound is different.
It does not invade; it simply seeks to rest deep within your heart, layer upon layer.
The deep brown of ancient bark and the mossy green of an eastern island.
The earth shakes my lungs, and through the piano, the land exhales.
It is not me who plays; it is this island, breathing through the keys.