And from the moment I dreamed of space, I have spent every day trying to create a rhythm that will echo in this hollow chest the way that the galaxies did, to discover a melody that will haunt me like the stardust on my fingertips, a tune that matches the voice of the constellations, pouring every inch of my soul into a piano, to recreate the way I felt in one moment. Here is why I write.

Yet black and white keys

cannot fill me like your soul;

I am bound by words.



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