calling: muse

dear,
where have you gone?

buried in the morning
madness scrawled into
plain notebook by
dawnlight and candlelight?

my eyes are aching
seeking you in the
glow of these
screens

i see you somewhere
in the bits, in the R G B

i feel you in the warmth
the softness the held breath
and the sighs

you’re staying there,
there in the feeling moment

and i haven’t had the
heart to pull you up
from there and
splash you
onto the page

oh,
muse.

 
 
dear muse

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