Drawing rosined bow across the strings
his haunting melody found me in the shadows,
cutting deep, like a sharp blade drawn across smooth flesh
piercing my soul
holding me captive, breathless,
caught up in strings of horsehair that fell away as he played,
weaving a web with every note
Lowering his instrument
clasping bow to his heart like a cherished saber
he bowed,
acknowledging his talent on the faces of his audience
as they rose around me
weak and drained
crying out for more
and once again the lancer drew his sword
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