I wish my muse would let me kiss her cheek
She had to let me go; I don’t know why
She’s still the one who listens to me speak
She’s still the one I turn to when I cry
She gives me words like oxygen I need
I know she knows I need her, so she stays
She’ll be my muse forever, guaranteed
I want her words in many different ways
Erotic words still haunt my poetry
I know the words are hers; she knows it too
Her words transcend forever’s guarantee
There’s things I know; I wish I never knew
They touch my lips, although they’re not her face
They’ll follow me, and hold me in my place.

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