title:  two musical relics of my mother.

                                                                        *arranged for four hands and two pianos.*

                                                                       *object category: piano rolls [**[1]**](<https://www.notion.so/What-could-be-more-natural-1892-86f7ccb8be4c4d4cb36087f53d0f5dbe#_ftn1>)*

she lives in fear that one day she

will sing him a

lullaby and never hear

it back {a  strike to the legs}

she often-

dreams in a language

that is only spoken through

scores. at

three-o-clock on   the   dot, she feels

the ebb and          flow of words,

he plays grief in

buttery blue-eyed prose

his heartbeat {one,  two,   three}

humming        in her chest, and in

his fingers,       hers

{four   strikes across