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You say you are [tone deaf|not musical]?
You, whose voice I have heard in [candlelight|dim light],
whose shoulders sing of bliss?
Listen to [rattle and hum|the hum of your spine] as I trace fingers down either side,
you doubt there is [magic|music] here?
You, whose lips quiver as [angels|harp strings] do,
when my mouth finds the back of your neck.
When your arms enfold me.
and take in all my choruses, my echoes
there is music here, yes
but only with [rapture|accompaniment].
Existing:


Non-Existing: