You, the Violin

I wish I could
play you like a violin
And the more or less
I tickle your chords
the better your sound
makes me feel
Pressed against my neck
I hold you
My Bow moves strategically
to change your breath
But, I hold you
Over and over again
I play you the way you
should be played
want to be played
until you demand a denouement
And still, I hold you
Finally, my staff falls
causing my neck to grow cold
Though relaxed, you are still
by my side
hailed by the standing ovation
seen by afar
But we both rest
to practice for perfection
Because I hold you
the way you should be held
attentive to every key
You spilling outward triumph

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