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Muse
kym

By kym

The muse isn’t physically present anymore …

There was a time that I could simply look over at her...

Her beauty, her darkness, her intensity

Igniting instant fire in me from somewhere deep & pulsating outward

I couldn’t ignore the passion, the wetness in my soul

 

My dark muse

She was living, breathing, liquid art

She surfaced my madness

I didn’t know what to do with her or my feelings

I turned it into a wild, reckless creativity …

 

And then …

She left me ... destroyed, bleeding, and empty

My life ceased to be in some great way

 

I stopped morning her

I could not see or smell or taste or touch her anymore

I stopped creating

Old art still lying around … the remains of what was once so real

 

Suddenly though …

When my conscious mind had almost forgotten her

Just as she left … she returned

Entering the room as always

Silent and clothed only by her own raw sexuality …

I heard her low voice in my ear

Felt her breath on my neck

Smelled her spicy perfume

Even tasted the salt of her skin

 

The familiarity scared me … I knew her instantly

Her nipples against my shoulder, stomach against my back, tongue on my neck

Spinning me around without any pretense

Holding me down with her eyes

Her lips consumed me while her hips tortured me

I was burning with the old heat & wet

With my own tears …

I had forgotten how I missed her

How much I needed her to return

 

The muse isn’t physically present anymore …

But she is with me now nevertheless

The constant ache to touch her overwhelming

The cravings to lay with her unbearable

And I will do the only thing I could ever do

Even when she was with me so long ago …

I will … create

  • 4.5/5 rating (2 votes)

Comments (4)

  • a guest
    Dorian Vincent Scotti
    24 December 2010 at 08:50 |

    This is truly beautiful, very touching

  • a guest
    Beau Butger
    17 January 2011 at 13:56 |

    Wow, Kym. I didn't know you had it in ya! haha this was awesome.

  • a guest
    Grace De Diminicantanio
    23 September 2011 at 14:13 |

    Excellent.

  • a guest
    Brian Dryer
    19 May 2013 at 11:34 |

    I absolutely have felt that so many countless times...your words literally jarred me and then soothed as you invoked in me my own memories of the muse's insatiable fire as the passion of creativity grips me...then alternately leaves me frozen in the remembering of the cold once the fires have burned low...thank you for this poem Kym.

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