The Guitarist

I step on the stage
my mistress awaits
my calm is my rage
our audience anticipates.

Draped around my shoulders
I carry her with ease
My fingers tease her vocal chords
and she starts to breathe.

I press all her pedals
and stretch all her strings.
I play with my plectrum
and she starts to sing.

Distant yet close
confined yet free
I breathe and liquify
my cool is my heat

my sensation exquisite.

My fingers are fire
touch her and she burns
our heat singes you
as my attention turns.

Faster, I freeze.
Her shriek strikes my soul
I blink, c'est fini
This rock sometimes rolls.

I embrace her renewed
after our tiff
forgiven, in my heaven
my kiss heals the riff(t).

(fyi - One of three poems inspired by guitarist John Petrucci. This one intended to be read with "The Guitar")