Steinway Nude

She plays her Steinway
nude sometimes
dabbles in erotic rhymes,
late at night
when life is lazy
her capriciousness drives me crazy,

She sends me photos
of her lovers
accounts of acts under the covers,
in a cryptic, private way
suggests we meet alone, someday.

I wonder if it would
be wise
to run my hand between her thighs,
play a riff on her keys
rest my hands on her knees,

Be one of her
sorted lovers
another tune, under the covers
a duet on her baby grand
visit her melodic land ...