strings

once in a while
i pick up
and blow away the dust
off the wooden
masterpiece
that those 6 strings
are.

its another world
with different sounds
rhyming
singing, creating
moods and colors
of life
which words can’t.

a tweak
here and there
once in a while
a tap
picking up strings
fingers flirting
soul dancing
and
mind together
at one place.

its all fine.

i blow the dust
aside
but in the end
i’m blown
away.

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