Making Love To the Muse
She followed me downward,
her lips were on fire
From the depths of her lake,
every wish she inspired
Water everywhere,
lily pads on end
A frog left unkissed,
the price of pretend
She looked at me sadly,
the bottom came soon
My arms reached out madly,
to drown or to swoon
Her voice calling gently,
my spirit renamed
As my soul she undressed,
—inside her again
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2017)
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