As her bra fell to the floor
It played an open chord
Across the guitar leaned on my bed
And I realized
Why the neighbor boy's
Callous tipped fingers
Only ever made me feel cold
As we huddled underdressed
Against the late spring frost
And why I found myself jealous
Of that other body in his hands
The one he could make sing so beautifully
That fit perfectly in his arms
In a way mine never did
And though I'd learned to play for him
Pulling a voice from the hollows
My hands never filled with fire
In the way that they do now
Spreading across the curves
Sinking into the softness of my mattress
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