a soft shirt hangs loosely from your soft back
uninhibited
your fingers, magnetic
become rooted to your instrument
and your body shades the music you create
like a tree leaning over a galaxy of moon-soaked water.
your breath is a metronome
that fills the tiny silences with life
and adds punctuation to the melodic sentences you speak.
with what is left of its windy consciousness,
my body absorbs the urgency of a dangerous crescendo
like a slow, sweeping wave pushing me under
a blanket of warm water.
Then your stoic face pulls me back in
and i feel safe under your focused serenity
with each whispering note that comes after,
breathing sleep back into my eyes.
and, again, i'm washed away
this time, to paradise.