The first time I heard you, it was as if the earth itself had exhaled, carrying a voice older than time into the stillness around me. Your sound—low, aching, infinite—was no mere melody. It was a secret, whispered through centuries, waiting for the right soul to listen. And in that moment, as your notes trembled in the air, I understood: you are no ordinary instrument. You are something ancient, something sacred, something that speaks to the depths of me in a language no words could ever capture.
Your body curves like the horizon before a storm—elegant, inevitable. Your wood, dark and rich, holds the scent of time itself, of candlelit rooms and hands that have loved you long before mine. When I press my fingers against you, I feel your pulse, your quiet promise that when I draw you close, you will answer with something meant only for me.
Oh, cello, what would I be without you? The world moves, but only through you does it truly breathe. You weep when I weep, you rise when I rise, and even in silence, you remain beside me. You are not just an instrument; you are my confession, my solace, my forever.
Dear Victor and Victoria,
The first time I heard you, it was as if the earth itself had exhaled, carrying a voice older than time into the stillness around me. Your sound—low, aching, infinite—was no mere melody. It was a secret, whispered through centuries, waiting for the right soul to listen. And in that moment, as your notes trembled in the air, I understood: you are no ordinary instrument. You are something ancient, something sacred, something that speaks to the depths of me in a language no words could ever capture.
Your body curves like the horizon before a storm—elegant, inevitable. Your wood, dark and rich, holds the scent of time itself, of candlelit rooms and hands that have loved you long before mine. When I press my fingers against you, I feel your pulse, your quiet promise that when I draw you close, you will answer with something meant only for me.
Oh, cello, what would I be without you? The world moves, but only through you does it truly breathe. You weep when I weep, you rise when I rise, and even in silence, you remain beside me. You are not just an instrument; you are my confession, my solace, my forever.
Sing for me always, my cello. My heart belongs to you.
enjoy this playlist y'all, xoxo VV https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-PTQM...
1 month ago | [YT] | 59