it's the way he bends his back
shoulders rolled
hunched
eyes focused on fingers
as they slide, pick their way
through acoustic water-wind

the way he shapes the sound
head moving back and forth
assuring his strings
matching heartbeat
real
packed with essence

the way he looks up
soft stare
filled with all the power
hiding beneath his skull
mild, knowing, smirking
leaking his identity

why is it
i'm reaching for him
on edge
as he pours music
waterfalls and trenches
to my thirsty lungs

why is it
my face twists
micro-movements
eyes open
drops of pain and empathy
faltered breath,

he swept me up

the floor is now clean