and the irony of it all is sitting in his living room as he picks up that thing that was once just a big tree and touches it so magically that the strings vibrate to form notes i recognize in a pattern i know well, too well. and my mind takes me back to that night when someone first did this for me, first was this to me. i want to lie and say that i kissed that boy so he'd better watch out, but i know my place, and i keep my mouth shut. and at the end of the night i walk away wanting more.
