by July 9, 2008 0 comments

The jazz blows the skirt of
A high neck
Martini glass
High siding
Lady in black and silver
Bowing to the eloquence
Of need
Jazz players talk with
Their eyes and listen
With their hands
To break though
The language barrier
A sound as intricate
as a lover’s moan
when the sun is full on her face
dapples of minor notes
glowing from your breath

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