Both Hands

A waltz in four movements, inspired by Khaty Xiong's poem about a parent pretending to fall into a pit — and a child who refuses to let them stay there.

I. Play (mm 1-8) — Light, upper-register piano. Small intervals like small steps. A game of touch-your-toes. The velocity is gentle here — nothing weighs much yet.

II. The Crying (mm 9-16) — The melody drops an octave. Cello enters underneath like a second voice the child wasn't supposed to hear. The shame of being caught mid-grief. Heavier touch, more sustained notes — the way sadness insists on being held.

III. The Pit (mm 17-20) — Almost nothing. Two low notes in four measures. The silence is the grave. The pretend fall. The held breath before the child arrives.

IV. Both Hands (mm 21-32) — The turn. Repeated A4s that stab upward — "Your hand!" — demanding, insistent, the way a child grabs at you when they've decided you're not allowed to stay down there. The melody climbs. The cello supports. And at the very end, one F-sharp turns the whole key major. Not a triumph. Just a hand taken. Then the other.

The final D major chord isn't loud. It's the quietest moment in the piece. Being pulled out of something is not the same as climbing out. It's gentler than that. It's someone smaller than you deciding you're worth saving.