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Jun 2014
he touches,
he breathes,
he caresses,
he tastes,
he sees, with his minds eye,
                                no need for sheets of paper with dots and lines,
                                he has lived this piece since his life became defined,
the instrument,  and hearts
the oxygen, with poise
with fine pressure, the pure sound,
sweat, saliva and tears,
he does not stray from the course,
                                                             sharing the talent, giving the gift,
                                                                to any who will listen,
                                                                   to all who are near,
                                                                       but always to an audience of one.
Ottar
Written by
Ottar  where you will find me
(where you will find me)   
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