Callused hands trace
her hourglass shape with the
pools of blood resting
beneath fingers' surface.
Her elegant neck now rests in my palm.
She settles on the soft curve below my chin
and I tickle her body with my coarse scruff.

The bow dances upward like steam from the kettle
C
G

D

A
spelled out in vibrations –
my eyelids float downward.

Pen kisses paper,
ink streams melodically.
Six eight time in the key of Ab
Bb
Eb

Ab


Db

Birds sing, I mark a mezzo forte.
Leaves crunch, I insert a “grand pause.”
Winds whisper … my imagination stumbles.

Sweat beads.
Temples pulse.
Ideas cascade.
Fatiguing strings.

Discord resonates.
A life out of tune.