A Woman and Her Muse

Blood drops blossom on the bathroom floor.

The make-up you’re wearing, the heels,

the pants around your ankles –

a poet’s morning glow disappears in the mirror.

There’s much to do, I beg you.

You look with empty bucket eyes,

eyes I faintly know.

Zip up your pants,

wipe the blood from the floor.

The stench of you

drips down our walls

your skin a nicotine yellow.

Put me on instead.

My skin is the color of difference.

I’m the pink inside your mouth.

I’m the rattle of a cage.

I sing and I sing

I feed and I feed

I make light of our darkest need.

You bring the cold city home on your heels

I wrap weight in a warm blanket.

I kiss your hands

one palm

two

thankful you’ve brought the body home.

Now we run, now we write,

we meet storms and throw seed

our eyes are feeding and electric

Your hummingbird hand while I shovel the coal

don’t you see how our body can glow?

By morning you’re back to covering pores

spritzing on a false skin

You’re daylight eyes cut our current’s circle.

Oh body, please come back

I need your hands

oh body, don’t leave me whispering.

Blood drops blossom on the bathroom floor,

there’s much to do, I beg you.

You wipe the blood clean of me,

you wipe me off the floor.

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2 Responses to A Woman and Her Muse

  1. LtotheJ says:

    I really like this one!!!

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