Your Music

I feel your music
in my hands.

They tremble with
the energy of notes.

With the grace
of arias the wind
lifts your hair.

Your red cheeks
a rhythm- jazz
blues the pulse
of samba
in my blood.

No wonder I

drop the papers
which were
carefully
ordered.

They fly apart
with wings of sound.

My hands tremble
with the energy
of your music.

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