Tuesday, December 15, 2009


If love had a language, he'd realized it would be this, not words or gestures, but the mellifluous richness he'd heard that summer evening, anchored between the pairs of violins and the bass. The musician seated with his cello tucked between his knees, bent in concentration and intensity of focus that swept and fled, stroked and drew upon man, instrument and bow.
Jeffrey Lent

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