the first time we met
you 
played this song
with a room full of amps
cables coiled around the floor
with the glossy black heavy 
1965 Les Paul break my heart 
custom guitar with vintage 
sweat stains that you can see 
still to this day as it hangs 
in a shadowbox on my wall

the second time I met you
a stroke broke your rhythm 
and you tried to play 
in pajama pants 
the notes mottled together 
but I could still hear Santana
stutter through the string

I wish 
we could have talked 
about why you 
went to bars with a bible in hand
a music man wishing to save 
them all

we had was a moment 
standing on an island
in a estuary 
said not a single word 

becuase why would we
estranged as we were 
but we both shared 
that music chase 
fevered notes and sweat 

so I’ll play it for you 
cause it’s the only language 
we knew for one another 

share with the others out there
that know what it’s like 
to make a guitar sing