There’s something about a cellist
That
really turns me on
A
female cellist obviously
In
a low cut evening dress
Of
emerald green velvet
The
great polished instrument
Between
her long black stockined legs
Her
long brunette hair
Dancing
across her naked shoulders
Brushing
her alabaster skin
In
frantic rhythm to her playing
Sat
in the lavish surroundings
Of
a grand hotel lobby
A
pale willowy figure called Deidre
Purposefully
thrashing out a piece by Elgar
Or
music to slash your wrists by
To
a disinterested audience
Ok
its not cellists that turns me on
But
there’s something about Deidre
That
definitely does
When
she’s playing the cello
No comments:
Post a Comment