The perfect sound.

Her perfect body,
aged, but perfect to the touch.
Her gloss around her abalone inlays
the way my palms get sweaty as I hold
her neck.
Slipping across the phosphour bronze I
feel every coil in my fingers as I
connect every sound in my heart.
Every pick of her six voices feels like
a chapter of a story of our lives is being written.

A musky wooden scent that creeps its way
deep into my soft memory forever.
That dirty metallic smells that proves
my love for us.

A desperate battle as my fingers tweak her
pegs to perfection,
a bit more,
a bit less...
our perfect sound.
I try
my best to make sure that when we're together
we're in harmony.
I can hear when we're not in sync,
no need for a robot to tell me that,
we talk for hours on end, but from
your first sound I know when something's wrong.
But when we're together perfectly...
Every pick of her six voices sounds like
a second chance, a relief, a release.