Four Stringed Furniture
The magic of music
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She swims in well-worn band tees
high waisted acid washed jeans
unlaced chucks sharpied
by names she used to love;
autographs of a foreign past —
she wears her memories well.
She proceeds with confidence
behind painted black lashes
and emerald eyes
following the lines, emitting power
through late night sketches, scribbles
bred from monochrome thoughts that turned into song, all resurrected
from crumbled white paper
in hopes, that maybe
whiskey stained breath
will drown a haunted past
hitting every note,
perfectly singing songs of sorrow
while fingers beautifully caress
silver frets along the neck
of her four-stringed furniture
all from her velvety green cloud,
she wears her memories well.
Music is magic and music is pure — it’s inspiring and enlightening. It’s an artwork that I’ll always adore.
Music connects us, through laughter and through tears. Music even shares memories of moments once feared.
Music is a beautiful gift that I’ll always keep near.
And as always, I thank you for being here.
Much love,
Heather
