we both cried.
we won't breath in the same stale
we won't fill the same room with
trills and vibrato.
the best teacher ever is leaving us
he'll be in a different room breathing
the same air as a different set of students.
we loved each other.
sometimes love must be at a distance
each breathing their own air and
playing their own melody
only to criss-cross in a duet sometimes.
not as much, but maybe just enough
to remember the generosity of
every week of every month
of so many years.
I cried and tears squeezed from
the best teacher ever,
I will miss you so.