The Muse

She is a blue woman

with long yellow dreads

and a blaze burning in her eyes.

She speaks to me


all of the time

none of the time.

Her skin is mottled

and seems to be always shifting

beneath the surface.


She comes as a whisper

tickling the follicles in my ear

vibrating my eardrum in gentle tympani,

creating a light show of changing images in my mind.


She is a persistent mistress

when the whispers become a shout

and my ears throb,

my mind explodes

in a cacophony of sound and color.

Her eyes set a blaze inside of me

burning from the inside out.


This Muse – source of transformation.

In a fever, I succumb

Dismantling my awareness,

Burning away what is known

Until ashes lie upon the ground

in divinatory patterns

Messages rising through the perfect aftermath.

Only then, she smiles.


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