Waiting For the Muse To Come

My eyes were diverted my mind taken back Her presence upon me her breath an attack There’s no sense in running with no place to hide Although rare in the daylight her message alive My pen comes out quickly and drawn like a sword Each word spoken plainly and pointed toward My life now a capsule exploding like hail The light towing blindness the comets new tail Last phrases are written my senses return I feel her leave slowly my pen it still burns I look down at the page to see what I wrote The handwriting foreign familiar once spoke “Your life but a dream between wisps of my breath “Once spoken inside you beyond life and then death” (Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2018)