Cellove
The cellist
Plays her heart
With his bow
Rosined and ready
To flirt with danger
Strikes the first note
With such force
It skips a beat
Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba...
Wait
What did she say?
Is that the melody of a yes?
The crescendo of blushing cheeks?
The last measure leaves a memory
In the mind of their lover
The whole note ending on her lips
As they close on them
Fine.
YOU ARE READING
Quiet
PoetryThese are just some random poems about me and my life. Some of them are a little bit emotional. Feel free to eat a tub of ice cream while reading. I won't mind. Just don't get any of it on the couch.
