her tongue is an improvisation
running scales into me
sheets of sound blare
forcing my eyes to close
skin keeps contact against skin
fingers comping chords
right hand plucking
a melody from nowhere
breath as smooth as trumpet
lines from the school
of west coast cool
warm tone
of upright bass
I become upright
as everything drops
away for the deep toned
solo played with a bow
leading in with a crash
our heads cock back
landing on the one
back on beat
like always
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