Elizabeth Kotora
Ebony hits my chin.
The smooth texture
calms me,
prepares me,
for what's next.
My thumb rests in
its rightful spot.
Its crook breathes
with life.
It readies my fingers
for what's next.
My fingers hit the runway
made of the material
that calms me,
Ready for action.
With a flash, my other hand
and its tool are ready
and waiting.
I place it in its
designated area.
The hair brushes
Ever.
So.
Slightly.
I take a breath
in
and out.
Eyelashes brush
my cheekbones before they
flutter open.
And then
I strike.
Inspired by the violin
