B is for The Musician

I imagine strings of tousled hair lying freely on my pillow

Or her pillow

Or our chair

I imagine cradling her as she cradles that which cradles her song that cradled her thoughts

And me

Lying there next to strings of tousled hair

From a woman who plays with my heart

As frequently as she plays her strings

And I am the instrument

As she is an instrument

And this smile in her eyes

Echoes the midnight hum of a new chord

That churned within her heart

That leapt up her chest

And burned through her fingers

I imagine kissing fingers

I imagine striking a chord with navels

Till the sound of the flute escapes from her lips

I imagine many things as the thought passes and dances…

A heart that beats 150 beats per minute

A body that sings in the cool of the day

A chorus of giggles that lead you to bed

And strings of tousled hair

Lying freely on my pillow or her pillow

Or our chair

The Musician

April 29th, 2011

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