The bow cuts sharply across taut strings
A crescendo rings out
Loud and hot
Playing across flesh and bone
All alone
A bow of metal
The strings breathe
Spilling out song
Run down
Like blood running from shoulder to wrist
Warm and inviting
Not scary any longer

But to all who don't know a disturbing melody
A tabboo
Not acceptable
Maybe
Maybe not
Like an ill placed violin