You enter a small, intimate club. A piano, backlit by a soft light, is on the small stage up front. A microphone stand is to the right of the piano. The singer is due to come to the stage at any moment. You sit facing the stage. To your left is your husband, who looks across at you nervously. He admires you and your dress, then smiles.

A brightly-dressed woman with hair wrapped like days of old enters the stage from the left. She sits at the piano, adjusts the hem of her mid-thigh dress, and nods. The audience lights go dim.

Your husband abruptly stands, bows slightly toward you, and then makes his way through the onlookers.

As he climbs the five steps up to the stage, you realize he’s conjured a surprise. Long past are the days when such surprise once ruled your lives. Unbeknownst to you, that drives his nervous legs onto the stage.

He turns briefly to the pianist, who smiles, nods, and places her hands above the piano keys. His right hand cradles the old microphone as his left grips the stand below.

“I know we’ve lost a touch of magic over the years. I miss the connection we once took for granted. I still see the same bright, beautiful woman I met all those years ago. This song is for you, hoping you want to rekindle the flame that needs fragile attention.”

And the music begins to play…
.
.

Inopportune

[Verse 1]
swallowed desire doesn’t nourish a soul
lasting long enough, it takes its toll
like standing at a banquet admiring the food
wondering why no one hands you a spoon

[Pre-Chorus]
beauty gives confidence; therein lies a truth
but it also lies to those who perceive it
any fool will throw away the pan
if they can’t find the gold

[Chorus]
we don’t live in a theory or in our heads
the same beauty you relish is a pain to behold
you might as well be standing on the moon
seeing but not experiencing is inopportune

[Verse 2]
if it’s all take and no give, what’s the point
you might as well be looking at a painting
behind an impenetrable blindfold
keeping your secret desires untold

[Pre-Chorus]
we want admiration, desire, and passion
without it, we might as well dine on air
it isn’t enough to be standing and staring
a cyclone of needless despairing

(chorus)
we don’t live in a theory or in our heads
the same beauty you relish is a pain to behold
you might as well be standing on the moon
seeing but not experiencing is inopportune

[Outro]
food for the eyes is food for the soul
the primal beat of our human hearts