I do not understand you
voice stripped from your throat
in four silver strings
pulled out and stretched taut
across the firm red frame
of a delicate violin

You are pretty
big eyes and small lips
hair that ties itself in tight curls
and springs from your head

But it is your passion that caught my eye
the short sharp movements
of your arm
against the rigid strings of your violin
the straight white line of your neck
against the hungry curve of the wood

I am intrigued with he secrets tied up in the twist of your wrist
your ability to unravel understanding from those four still strings
listening as you draw the music from throats and hands long silent

It is sophisticated, passionate
and beautiful

AcB 12.04.01