I press my lips up to the opened front
of the instrument and then begin to share
a song. The air becomes delicately bent
and changes tone, I'm breathing out the air
and making sounds. I have imagined hair
as a veil or curtain, as an obscure, heavy
fog mystifying things. The Sunlight glares
around the edges of her when its daily
rise begins. For I am justified by every
curve of her body, the lithe and strong
muscles of her thighs: how they are married
to her hips! I had my face in the longing
sighs of her love. I can hear the wind
picking up in the back of my mind.
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