A Love Affair

How callous ‘twould be if there were not pain in this moment of longing. But nay! No longing such as that of string and fret beneath mine hand have I known since before this night. And such a night! In the depth of winter the heavens cry and poureth forth their tears in joyous wonder at a flame lit in these darkest hours, these dread hours when dreams alight on shuttered brow; here a lowly fading spark catcheth and is given life anew. And here, in these hours, in a night when the heavens open and the rain falleth mine hands alight upon rosewood and nickel and embraceth the lady adorned; with loving remembrance softened fingers trace her delicate curves and glide along the smooth surface of her neck , renewing and sustaining what was, and what may yet be. Harsh is the bite that stingeth mine fingers, payment due for a long neglect, yet familiar the touch and the movements come and reward is soon tendered. And thus in self made agony is ecstacy gained and a love affair rekindled.