There was music

around her;

notes playing

in the silver air;

she exhales

close to my

upturned face.

Her shape,

a fine

brown cello,

her low voice

singing

each word-note

coming

in a whispering moan.

My bow string

draws out her chords

harmonizing,

flowing into to me.

siren-like.

Arpeggio

hair braids

trail away;

clef note eyes

glow

with the white heat

which rises

in the sparkle dust

of her melodies singing.

She bends toward me

cascading,

double breasted

notes;

her arms

flower petals

unfolding from side to side;

mouth parting slightly

breathing warm air.

She sang

to my soul,

cello style.