There to thy ears of no other doth she play so heavenly,
Recreating the sensation of stars above. The ceiling melted and giveth way to thy sweet sound.
Each finger like their own artist, dancing upon the string;
A choreographed ballet. Her neck rolled back like the green meadows rolled upon their river beds,
Her eyes faded to shut; the most glorious sunset to ever grace upon Earth.
She was the harp,
The golden statuette engraved on the side
Make a goddess likeness to my Andolina.
Once thee music fades, she doth fade with it,
My soul caught between her strings, boarding the same lustful voyage.
