
Golden Violin
He made a song about me
Sang to me like therapy
Enthralled by his golden violin
He pledged his devotion
In pieces of poetry
And rock and roll
He embedded me in his lyrical psalm
And choruses made of dishevel and disarray
His instrumentals warmed my soul
With convoluted weave
And composition
More than a symphony
He loitered over the architecture
Of my camber and disposition
And penchant for acoustics
And four-letter words
I was content in his euphoric melody
As he seized my guileful cloak
To scream fuck me
To ruffle me
In the ballads
He played so beautifully
“HE LOITERED OVER THE ARCHITECTURE OF MY CHAMBER AND DISPOSITION”
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