Love Notes

Poetry for Creative Writing Class

He strums his way into my heart, with moving melodies and notes played with poise.
His fast five fingers pick the six-string box that used to sit in a case under my bed.
When we’re together, words just aren’t enough. But the music-
the music speaks for him and me
My eyes watch his hands, sliding up and down the neck, tracing over delicate notes and well-known masterpieces.
I travel up the neck, to his neck where tiny frets can be seen if close enough.
Then move to mouth, nose,
and stop,
to eyes as melodic as sweet music, to sweet spots that sound like strumming.
And while soft, subdued sounds escape your fingers, I get lost in your brown eyes.