{"sf1_id":831280,"sf2_id":"znJZZB3n","title":"She Plays (Poem)","author":"SolusLupus","words":99,"posted_at":"2015-03-16T16:16:00.000Z","tags":["Depression","Emotional","Music","Poem","Poetry","Violin"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/831280-she-plays-poem","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/znJZZB3n","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/0e/64/0e64a697-4566-4f27-8cc0-009647465bda","description":"#2 of Poetry","content":"In the morning, she plays.  \n  \nThe bow slides across the strings of the violin, sending crisp melodies through the air.  \n  \nHer soul leaps into the air, dancing upon light feet.  \n  \nAt noon, she plays.  \n  \nShe dances with a man.  \n  \nShe did not know him, but now, for this briefest moment, their souls connect.  \n  \nAt evening, she plays.  \n  \nThe notes are somber.  \n  \nHer soul sways, heavy with emotion.  \n  \nAt night, she tries to play.  \n  \nThe chords are broken melodies.  \n  \nAt midnight, she does not play.  \n  \nThere will be more melodies in the day.  \n  \nBut the day  \n  \nhas yet  \n  \nto come  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Poetry","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/818189-sensual-sacrifice-poem.json"}}