She has curves
He loves to grip.
Holding her close to his chest
Resting in his lap
He caresses her.
His fingers knowing which strings
To make the most beautiful music.
He makes her sing sweetly.
Sometimes she is accarezzévole
As though she is whispering tenderly.
She is played con affetto
She is roaring with passion
His lover giving her all.
But whichever way she sings to him
*Certain souls bring out the sweetest songs within us. A reblog from last year.
Art taken from verycoolphotoblog.com