Tema: Boy With A Guitar

I don't know your name so I'll refer to you
as the boy with a guitar..
From across the room you capture my attention,and draw it like a sketch
I'm sure the police are on your trail
For you robbed me off my breath;
Yes, boy with a guitar you left me breathless
But don't stress I don't want it back
For it is restored with every motion you make to
Pluck on those strings;
See I'm puppet to your strings

I've never seen nor heard anyone play so good
Never have I met someone who could sweep me
Off my feet so swiftly like I was some dirt lying on the floor
You break down all my defences as if they were paper
Without even uttering a single word
Or making the slightest move
It must be the way you pluck on those strings
And synthesise such a nice melody only angels could compose
So tell me, where you hiding your wings at?
because looking at you a see an angel, a cherub
Boy, you've got me hypnotised
Truly I'm traumatised and literally crying for
All the days I lived without knowing you.

From across the room, your face bent on your guitar
Your lashes cast over your milk white eyes
I can feel you looking at me
I can feel your eyeballs caressing my flesh
From my head, to my face, down my neck to my collarbone
And all the way to my toes;
I can feel your eyes penetrating mine
To look right into my soul.
But I take a look at you and your face is cast down
You are not looking at me....
But at your guitar which you hold on to so tenderly as if
Your next breath depends on it
Well it seems mine does depend on it. ...

It must be the music protruding from between
Your graceful fingers and the strings
That make me feel our souls intertwine
Look, I haven't taken any wine
yet here I am feeling a little bit tipsy.
It's the sounds you compose, they make me lose
My composure and posture
The music you produce got me high
On another cloud of emotion
Oblivious to all the commotion
Around us
Since already I picture us on the mountain peak
where our souls do none but speak and break
The silence hanging thick in the air between us
From across the room, beneath the music.

From across the room I watch how your long,tender fingers
Pull and brush on your golden brown guitar
And I lose my train of thought as I wonder
How they'd feel on my melanin soaked skin,
How they'd brush my hair from my face to behind my neck
Or how they would cup my face-
Oh boy you and your guitar  got me thinking things I never used to
but for you I'm willing to get used to
Because nothing has ever touched me so intimately
As your music;
I'm puppet to your strings.

At this point I want to leave my chair, and find my way across the hall to you
I want to know if it's your guitar or just your hands
or if it's your soul after all,
Telling me of the wonders of love
See my friend heard love was a planet
So she took a trip there
But for me I think i know love is you;
Love is only you, boy with a guitar
So please make my heart glitter
And play once more for these butterflies to flutter
In eternal mad ecstasy...

©Tema