by Sharlene Leker
I am alone in my darkened place of tranquility.
I lay motionless in peaceful solitude.
I am resting.
Suddenly, I am aroused from my slumber as the click, click of footsteps draw near.
His hands gently wrap around my body and he lifts me from my place of quiet serenity.
He caresses me against his chest.
His warm breath washes over me like a gentle breeze on a chilly autumn morning.
My anticipation grows as his lips press over mine.
His fingers tap over my body with gentle percussion.
Together, we pair in sweet harmonious pleasure as music fills the hollow of my being.
I am filled with purpose.
I am filled with joy.
I am filled with song.
I am a saxophone.
(Now that you know this poem is about a saxophone, read it again.)