The Guitar of Our Love Affair

Affair: I haven’t picked up my guitar since December when you played both me and my guitar. For you tarnished her womanhood, with the soft wood and gleaming strings.

Bisexuality: The song that plays from her guitar makes me yearn to sing with her. But before I do that, I come running to help you finish your song. When I come back, she’s already singing with another. And I’m just the fool begging you to play in the right key so we can be together once again.

Callouses: The protection on my fingertips is gone because you left me without finishing the chord progression of my climax.

C-clitted major: You were too busy sticking your dick in the sound hole of my guitar to play in C-clitted major.

D-istressed string: My frets are broken from the constant strumming of the D-istressed string of my mind.

Foreplay: The frets are broken because you never sanded me down with foreplay.

G-spotted string: She doesn’t give off the same innocence anymore, with it’s G-spotted string that you never quite strummed. 

Manhood: You picked it up with someone else and realized she doesn’t moan in the same key I do. Does she know how you’d call the string of my vulva tight when the manhood of your guitar was just crooked and average.

Picks: One time you forgot a pick, so we just had to raw dog a song together. Infecting me with the song you played with so many others. 

Womanhood: I picked it up with someone else today. She sanded me down with foreplay. She strummed my G string being careful not to hit the D string. She’s a real musician and you’re just a self-proclaimed man.