E string vibrating into his skin
Nerves tingle to the sound
Tips fly across fingerboards
To keep the perfect beat
He's the core of music:
A sweet baritone syncopation.
He fills my lips with rhythm
'Til they burst in scats
His clef inches from my heart's metronome.
I want him to love me
In first-half arpeggios
Because I don't wanna come back down
To see
Love in another key.
***
(Inspired by the abundance of string basses/bass guitars I saw in Nashville. Also inspired by the jazz music playing in the car as I texted this poem to life.)
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