She is small.
She holds the kernel
at the very center
of the golden
trembling call
whose slightly
smoky radiance
sometimes befalls
a lucky violin
or set of vocal cords:
fleetingly affords
a touch of blushing
viscerally shocking
vibrancy which
stokes, evokes
the softest
ecstasy the human
ear can bear.
Today she dropped
a bit of it into
my care: let it brush
my cup of left hand
on the violin –
even dropped
a dollop of its
volupté into my
throat, for song.
It didn’t last for long.
She holds the kernel
at the very center
of the golden
trembling call
whose slightly
smoky radiance
sometimes befalls
a lucky violin
or set of vocal cords:
fleetingly affords
a touch of blushing
viscerally shocking
vibrancy which
stokes, evokes
the softest
ecstasy the human
ear can bear.
Today she dropped
a bit of it into
my care: let it brush
my cup of left hand
on the violin –
even dropped
a dollop of its
volupté into my
throat, for song.
It didn’t last for long.
.
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