We played

We played, she and I
with the heartstrings tied to our bones
First, I plucked them low
and she released the tones, higher than I expected
"Perhaps I pulled the strings a bit too much?" I asked
'No, actually, you just strummed the lyre' she smiled
"Do not compare my profaning fingers with your undulating touch" I grinned
'Well, but you should play our strings the way I play the flute' she explained
'With my lips perched, you exhale while I inhale ---
Like this...'
And there, we realized that true music is not petatonic, but a rough scale
as the sounds hit and shut the door, turned against the wall
and dropped down on the floor
Then she begged me to move the notes to her bed
'O, you push too hard' she sighed
"Because the strings are so tight" I said.