The Cello and the Girl
The cello is between her legs,
skirt hiked up
legs ungracefully spread.
sexually inviting.
The cello drums her
Thrums her darkness
Into blind angels
The cellos voice is her voice
Her body sings through it
Or is the cello making love to her,
making her body sing
into its hollow mouth?
I am mesmerized by her closed eyes
behind those eyelids the music runs naked.
The bow and her hands weave
moon drenched emotions
The bow is low
it nudges my body sideways into a place
where souls go to weep and rejoice
in the same instant;
there is no name for that place,
it is somewhere inside the cello
where her soul sings.
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