includes SINCAL and NETOMAC
He didn't play for an audience; he played for the ghosts of his own stanzas. Each press of a ivory key was a comma in a long, forgotten sentence. The lower octaves growled like a storm held at bay, while the high notes fell like glass breaking on stone.
Quill pens, metronomes, empty theaters, and shadows stretching across piano keys. dark_piano_the_poet
Ink-stained hands, flickering candlelight, rain-streaked windows, and vintage typewriters. He didn't play for an audience; he played