How to Make Love to a Didgeridoo X
A cello moans through cedar fog,
low notes trembling between her teeth.
Amber bowstrings tighten, vibrating against ribs—
wood groans beneath the weight of sound.
Resin clings to fingertips,
drawn taut over hollow curves.
Each bow stroke sharpens the air,
Splitting migraines into cascading cacophony
The final note—
held breath, a whispering overtone,
unraveled into stillness.
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