The wooden woman of rhythm,
Breaths, moans, and screams
as her thinly tensed strings
shiver to a shower of stings
At every single touch
of his tender, slender fingers
I sit there and stare
at their musical flare
I've had a fair share
but should I ever compare?
I know how that feels
I know how he heals
I know that warmth
cozier than any hearth
warming up the only path
leading to my lonely heart
yes, he's been a part
of life, light and every art
since the day I could imagine
the feeling of a love divine.
I could have never fathomed
the beauty of every ion and atom
But now I see how life begins
as he makes love to the strings.
-Uththara-
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