Black billows

My lover

does not pour life to my womb

but instead

ink on my page

as I learn from each new chapter

before it unfolds before me

life on a whim

given to this word

these words which would implore incite ignite

give rise to this revolution

if it is only in my mind

these words

which would dance around the sky

like faeries near the fire

careful their wings not to singe

but carefree in heart and mind

these words would collide with comets

and vanquish stars

but these words

are none of ours

why would you love me

I might ask

staring at an empty page

waiting for your caress

you exist in the boundless twilight

and sometimes do I see you

only in dreams

when I awake the next  morn

In your bedclothes

full of words

hanging high hanging low

which I collect and somehow hope to flow

and derive meaning in this conciousness

you always leave before I wake

and this remembrance you must take

but the creation lies with me

as I flee from thee

as I flee from thee


2 thoughts on “Black billows

  1. A delightful Ode to Muse rendered so readable with its elegant language, metaphor and tone. Greatly enjoyed, thank you.

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