The rhythm ensued,
Strum by gentle fingers.
His heart played into the notes on that six string guitar.
He caressed the acoustic sound of her voice.
Holding her tight, his reflection shone off the vinyl of that plastic hardwood.
His eyes closed, basking in the sound of her voice.
A landslide of emotion revealing itself at the bottom incline of his chair.
The string gulped in emotion, humming at the touch of his fingers.
She was open to him, that guitar with the gaping hole without a heart.
His grip loosened, allowing the guitar to breathe,
The respect of privacy allowed made her sing a bit looser, free to relive tension.
The strap around his shoulder, the string of emotion shown on his face.
He played straight from his heart into that six string guitar.
Handing over the pieces of his heart with each convulsion shared between them both.
She could finally breathe again with the heart he had given her, that six string guitar
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem