To My Muse


To My Muse

It’s your hand that I

ache to hold – solid warmth of

Interlacing fingers

locked together. A

comforting sight to behold:

skin blended with skin,

your fingers calloused,

little scars telling stories

of the man you are.

It’s your shoulder that

I long to fall asleep on,

breathing in your scent:

clean, warm, spring, and safe.

You make me feel safe. Secure.

When I am with you,

I am the woman

I want to be – complete. You

give me harmony.

It’s your arm I long

to feel around me, holding

me safe from the world.

It’s your eyes I long

to drown myself in, sinking

deeper into you.

It’s your smile I long

to see, lighting my dark soul

and infecting me.

I wake from the dream

and remember – you do not

love me.

[Almaty, Kazakhstan]

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