• Oh Violin


    Oh Violin, you alone
    I hold close to my cheek.
    Your smooth wood is imprinted
    Into my very fingertips.
    I know every curve and dip
    Along that graceful neck and shoulders.

    My chin rests upon your base
    With comfortable rigidty.
    Letting my heat soak into you
    Warming your metal veins
    As you sigh in reply.
    Cleaner than glass.

    Oh Violin, you are my voice
    When my throat won’t open.
    You are the vessel that catches
    The out-pouring of my heart,
    Filling up to the brim and spilling
    Out of the hollow of your own chest.