music box.

when i was younger, 

I use to have this interaction with a music box 

that i found in my basement.

It belonged to my grandma

and held her old painting brushes.

I'd spin the key in the back all the way

until it almost snapped

and then lift the lid open

and listen to the music

over and over again.

it was like a meditation before i even knew what that was.

i remember feeling the box and i shared a secret

or maybe

my grandma and i shared a secret.

I never met her

although she held me once before she died.

I was the last baby she ever held.

The music box felt like our own special way of communicating

because I knew the song that was playing

was her favorite one

and every time I turned the key

and started the music back up

it felt like we were both there listening

in a silent correspondence 

to the mechanical melody of tuned teeth rotating around a metal plate.

i haven't seen or heard that music box in years.