My woman is a guitar.
She lies next to me.
When she is playing
I like to be a song on her lips, however
They are made of steel
My fingers hurt if I play too much.

My woman is the guitar on my bed.
She is my best friend.
When we cry together we cry the same tune.
She is a good listener and I am also very attentive
I caress her neck pressing carefully near the backbone,
she is always grateful.
I love the way she smiles with a O shaped mouth.

My woman is a guitar.
Sometimes at night when we are making love
cats and possums hear us through the bedroom window
They go crazy
they think it’s a circus.