Two -Toned

4 Feb

Tangled barlines,
cacophonous fingers
coil the pearl rose lip of my ear,
slowly sliding the scale
past curls,
tossing the twirls
of ginger copper and brass.
An undulate tone
wraps round my shoulders,
and fringes my lower spine.

What is this fretted frame I feel,

warming a sonorous G
from the outside toward the in,
weighty,
finer than fine?

Crisp collared,
he glides
on oxford soles
cordovan and cream.
The bar gleams
with gin and lemon
and whiskies neat.
A brushed cymbal
pursues ice
in a crystal glass
toward the tinkling

into a melting mood.
Strokes of muted trumpet
roll around my rump
perched on a pin striped lap,
sharing a single seat.

In and out
of tensile tone,
the warbling wave
sends me into love
with myself.
Not him.

But how would he know?

Why would I ever tell him?

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