The first one brought a sealed letter. “Do not read it. Sing what it weighs.” I placed it beside the glass. The guitars began. He closed his eyes before I opened my mouth. Leave it here until the song is done. I will give it a voice. I will not make it gone. When the strings fall still, take back what you came with. You may leave quieter. That is all the song can give. The next one gave only a name. No story. No date. “Make it sound less like mine.” I used the breath the first song left me. He heard the name from somewhere else. That was enough. Leave it here until the song is done. I will give it a voice. I will not make it gone. When the strings fall still, take back what you came with. You may leave quieter. That is all the song can give. The last one asked for something that would last until morning. My voice caught on the final word. The room leaned closer. Someone whispered, “Beautiful.” No one asked what had broken. Leave it here until the song is done. I will give it a voice. I will not make it gone. When the strings fall still, take back what you came with. You will leave quieter. I will begin again. The glasses were cleared. The guitars were tuned again. I swallowed once. Outside, someone waited with another name.
