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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