your
fingers tap dance
oh
they bestow this pain
don’t
you play on me like that
lending
an illusion of rain
while
your dance produces
words
of love, lust and chains
of
thoughts that play
in
delight sometimes, and sometimes in disdain
i
like it when you glide on me
your
touch of benevolent grace
and
the times when you pause
and
look down on my face
but
when you're done with me
you
tap on me no more
and
tuck me away somewhere
waiting
for more taps in store
take
me out, i wait
for
your touch again this time
you wouldn't find a better keyboard
for
what you shell out in dimes!
