Like an empty music stand— yearning for even a decibel of noise, I lie awake thinking of you. It reaches out hoping for a pluck of a string but there is no one there.  Like a chair waiting for the return of a body to warm it. Tap. Tap. Tap.  Faint noises of a rhythm excite it— excited but never fulfilled.  Always on the verge of…SNAP! The snapped bow rests against the stand. Sheets of music humming while they lie sprawled across the floor. Rosin starts to crumble as someone passes by. It’s you. Why do you leave?  The echo of silent frustration as you try  to make out notes on the page.  Trying but never succeeding.  Where did you go?