Tonight's Poet Corner: The First Chair
The First Chair
by Belinda Roddie
Bounce me like a cello on your knee
and play all four of my strings. I tremble
beneath your dancing fingertips and love
the music you coax out of me. There are
songs I never, ever thought I knew how
to sing. There are chords we strike together
at the bus stop and rundown diner. I enjoy
being propped against your hips, swiveling
between your knees, my sternum caressed
like a fingerboard, while you draw your bow
across my quivering stomach
and you find
all
the right
notes.
by Belinda Roddie
Bounce me like a cello on your knee
and play all four of my strings. I tremble
beneath your dancing fingertips and love
the music you coax out of me. There are
songs I never, ever thought I knew how
to sing. There are chords we strike together
at the bus stop and rundown diner. I enjoy
being propped against your hips, swiveling
between your knees, my sternum caressed
like a fingerboard, while you draw your bow
across my quivering stomach
and you find
all
the right
notes.
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