A Violin Unused

I lie in slumber now.

In darkness.

In rest.

Inert, unmoving

Body fitted for the casket

The velvet, soft against my skin

The memory of its lid shutting, a final eclipse 

The clack of its clasps sealing it tight

And I wait.

In hope.

I long.

Dreaming of the days of destiny, of purpose.

When the future chases down the past and repeats… goes further…

To shine in light again.


The warmth of his skin against my body

The nimble fingers on my neck

My breath resonating with his heart

And music erupting from the core of my being

My soul shouting, screaming, caressing, singing…

And I was full.

Just being myself

With him.

But for now, I am an instrument Unused