Sunday, February 8, 2009

Your Guitar









By Nikki Quismondo

I open up out of guitar strings
like blue fish in the ocean waves,
your voice vibrates sentimental touches of the feet
embraced in moon weather
and when I open each string
your fingertips become a bookshelf of my mermaid sorrows
I notice your manhood, wanting to be tender
with fire-burned scars, each deep beneath the brown skin,
like tornado winds trying to hit a sculpted strength...

together we'll lay in your music
ironing out the lessons of our love,
like master scientists, performing our own operations
we'll leave the left over organs to the seashells....

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