to my thoughts.
my poetic muse.
with eyes of liquid
brown opening
a gateway to your soul.
The conception of a poem
seeds itself deep within me.
From within your cave
you are calling
siren like
sultry and silent by day
but within the cave
the true fire is released.
Your call can not
be delayed
nor be ignored
the poetic urge must
have it's way...
Come to me
write as with your tongue
upon my opened mind
The poem, the muse,
the poet
explode upon the sheets
of the page.
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