254brady_poem

Listen to the sound of my violin
Listen to the sweet romantic tune
Escaping through the dark F-holes
Almost wilting the overheated bridge
I want to grasp you like I grasp the neck
Make your perky chest my chinrest
Tonight your back will be my
fingerboard
And my tongue the bow

I will for sure take you there
Before my strings become numb
You will be left begging for more
Of my magic on the chocolate thing
Shaped like your very torso
I'll do it till you come
To realize my true feelings

But whoever made the violin
Was thinking about you my queen
For even the C-bouts
Are perfectly made like your waist
And darling don't even ask
What the tailpiece reminds my senses
Oh, the lower bout
Just like your smashing hips and more
I won't talk about the upper bout
I don't want to undress you this early
But I love your steamy bust

When I'm done with the pegbox
When the scroll becomes warm and supple
When the fine tuners turn hoarse
When my bow becomes curved
I'll be dying to have your body
Engulfed in a quilt of love
I'll be gazing at your dry lips
Asking for something slippery
To relight the dying embers
I'll be dying to die
In your warm passionate cuddles

We won't need sheets and blankets
Your love is warm enough
We won't need blood red wine
Our passion is drunk enough
Don't even light the scented candles
This moment is balmy enough
I want to feel you without toxicity
I want to feel emotions flow
Feel you with my bare skin

Every inch of me in you
Reach places fingers can't
Touch every single spot
That the Alejandros couldn't tread
Drive you beyond where tyres fly off
Show you where the moon goes to hide
Take you where the Malaysian plane crashed
Grasp you like a male eagle
Choke you till you swallow nothing else
But my warm hungry breath
Do you things without English names