Guitarist
Metal, plastic, wood, and flesh
each sound in turn,
each a different note, a different tone.
They press against each other,
then prance away to find another partner.
They don't take long to return.
Metal, plastic, wood, and flesh
mingle and converse,
moving to an unchoreographed routine.
They accompany each other to bed,
singing sweetly, oozing seduction.
They revel in each other's sounds.
Then a new sound joins in. More Flesh.
It powers through all the others,
gathering them up in its wake,
directing all of the provocation at one recipient.
His voice, sensual, stirring, full of I want you.
Soon I am one of the sounds swirling
in the wake of his voice.