the unpredicted guest

beautifully unexpected,
the cello player on the front porch;
eerie shadows and gruesome scenery
could not touch the captivating art of his song.
he played and he sang,
his sad and sweet tune rising above
background tv noise and drunken laughter;
and we,
his intoxicated audience,
sang along,
our voices very out of tune [and his quite on tune]--
yet the beauty of it all continued to escalate
and soon we were all intoxicated with the glories
of passion and life,
painful though it often is...
but in these moments
we felt his bow reverberate inside us
and our voices collide
and soon we were all one lover,
one tangled chaos of
hungry and sumptuous and inspired

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