An olderish one that is also craptacular...

He sings in a way that soothes me,
mesmerized by the slide of his fingers,
he watches the music as it fills him,
like colours only he can see,
my bones are bared when he fixes his eyes upon me.

Words laced with logic,
a round routine I let you lead,
to sustain what I wish to maintain,
these nights so few and far between.

You publicly profess with uninhibited lips,
but suffuse much separation.