Our Music

I have no music stand
to remind me
of the music
you used to play
Its shaft end
too remembered
to be comfortable

So skilled with your
instrumental phallus
so many notes
so many times
I bowed my head
and adored
adored
the senses
of your masterpiece

I could be transported
to touch temporal perfection
I was often laid open
to experimental notes
on frenzied flesh

Playing music
like an enthusiastic
conductor
made you cover
my secrets
delicate delicious deluges
that
practice made symphonies
body mind soul
in complete sympathy

I miss our music
my darling darling
miss the way you
played my sax