The Magic Of The Guitar

I took her again
from the attic
of my childhood
My guitar.
After all those years.
The smell of wood,
The smell of memories
How I once played her
But then didn’t touch her
for many years

And I enter her magical passage
And go from the black and white
into the colours
I meet you there, my guitar guy

I let it play in my hands
I whisper into it, say your name
And caress the guitar
like I caress you
My guitar guy, can you help me
to let my fingers dance
on her strings again
Like I let my fingers dance on you

First on your face,
your neck, your chest
And then slowly
I go down
I stroke you
Play with you
Desire you
I want to hear
all of your sounds

Can you caress
my curves
I let you enter
my magical,
sacred passage
Feel its warmth, its bliss
surrounding you
Play on my strings

And we sway together
We dance together
make love,
make music
make magic



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