Kithara

In my nightmare, I held your broken neck in my hand. I squeezed it tightly and cried, knowing that when I finally opened my fingers it would fall apart forever. But when I awoke you were still there waiting.

You’re always waiting.

Waiting for my palms to trace your curves, and for my fingers to stroke your tendons. Waiting for me to warm your body against my chest. Waiting for me to pour my passion into you, and to make you sing a song that only I may hear.

Waiting for me to give myself to you, completely.

I thought about when we met. At first you didn’t stand out from the others, but when I placed my hands upon you I felt a deep vibration in my soul. And even under the noise of the room, your voice was magical.

The next morning I found myself doubting what I had felt, so I went back to find you again. You were still there, and it was the same as it had been the day before. Later that week I took you home with me.

I wish I knew what happened. I still remember the excitement of my discovery. I still remember the renewed hope of fulfilling my childhood dreams. I still remember my resolution to unlock the music in my heart, and to create something new with the remainder of my life.

I still remember the promises that I made to you. I swallow them each night before I go to bed.

It isn’t fair to keep you waiting. There are others who would treat you better. There are others who would appreciate you more than I do. There are others who would give you the attention that you deserve.

Yes there are others, but you still belong to me.

And I’m not ready to give you up just yet.