Maple scars

The violin mark without playing

Wether I’m not playing for a while

The magic scar

The chin rest hurting without playing

Making it vibrate

Close woven fabric’s sound

Becoming part of the maple scars

The woods’ marks

when playing under water mind

the conductor’s butterfly-hands

Blue sky hands

The chin rest hurting scar

G string viola like vibrations

Entrancing sound

Spruce marks invading my face

Wood’s marks becoming mines

The violin permanent marks

Part of my own skin in spite of music or not

The magic scars

The chin wooden marks hurting all the time

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