If I could ease your pain.
If I could lighten your load.
If could make things a little better for you.
The lipstick case
screams across steel strings.
Music that touches
hidden places deep within.
A wailing cry of pain,
so close to high excitement.
Reaching inside
for something almost there.
The rhythm, the beat
a pulsing salve
over the pain/pleasure.
I need to hold my center of gravity.
I need to serve me first.
I need to live my joy.
The steel slides
moving freely
back and forth
from one octave
to another.
Neither octave
the answer.
Both are right
in their place
in the music
of life,
of my life,
in this
precious human body.
Lizette Stiehr
July 18, 2011
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