Bad Muse

My minx of a muse I swear she just uses me For her own entertainment... She gallumphs in my mind Red leather clad, little horns And more than one twinkle in her eye.. She whispers suggestions of what I should write 'I can't say that! ' I argue back 'why ever not? ' is her reply I've watched her horns grow Nurtured by her knowledge of my rebellious nature 'just go with our flow' is her persistent Whisper She reclines on the right hand side of my mind Dutifully tickling the left with her tail end Whilst we descend into the realms Of naughty, grinning souls, I can't help it Just as.. She certainly can't help it After all, birds of a feather Always end up friends...