One more...

[matt_doyle]

... and that'll be it for poetry re-posts today, although maybe not for other posts.

Jazz Duet

 

It’d be raw and liquid and improvisatory,

made for rooms filled with red

and smoky light, the graceful silhouette

you cast against the wall, the smooth,

deliberate curve of hip and side and breast

like an instrument waiting to be played. 

We feel out the harmonies

in the spaces between us,

your hands wringing out tension from each nerve

 like a bass string, my fingers pressing

back-bone bumps like saxophone keys,

and playing chords in your body with a swelling, tremulous vibrato. 

The immediacy of it, the heat

of the music like the burn of liquor in your throat

when the saxophone’s clarion note shivers down you,

the velvet warmth of brass shaking in your blood,

pizzicato fingers working their way up and down

the scales, along me, the luminary sounds

of a rising duet creating something

synergistically more, the building crescendo trembling

 in the air for one sweet timeless second before

the music falls away into the short-breathed silence of

release.