My Muse

I was  cleaning out my personal email and happened to come across a document entitled "My Muse". I had no idea what this was. There was no original date on it so I do not know when I actually wrote this. However, I do remember who it was about, so it has to be approximately 20 years old. Wow... It isn't an example of my best work, but I'll still claim it. 

Anyhoo, here it is. Apparently I was a very different person when I wrote this! But that's okay: I'm still a beloved child of the King.

MY MUSE

I'll miss the way you look. Blue gaze endless 

as the sky at noon; 

A quicksilver smile with a hint of mischief. 

Lips pursed in an unconscious moue. 

Expressive hands, artistic fingers itching to make 

me your own private canvas.

I'll miss the way you talk. Excited, words tumbling 

over themselves in their haste 

to be free. 

Fierce: conveying your loyalty and support. Your

accent, reminding me

of a time 

that's long ago and far away...

I'll miss the way you smell. A mixture of 

cigarette smoke and 

couture cologne, 

with a touch of your own personal scent thrown in 

to assuage 

my olfactory senses.

I'll miss the way you feel. A naturally muscled 

torso inviting my hands 

to explore every area;

from pierced nipple to Eye of Rah and below.

I'll miss the way you kiss. Taking me by surprise 

every time, 

each kiss like a 

full frontal assault. Seemingly from nowhere,

to everywhere.

I'll miss the way you taste. Like springtime, 

spearmint and abundant life.

But you're not springtime: you're Autumn. Teasing, 

transient Indian summer 

leading to a bleak, never-ending winter. 

My metaphor for your departure.

Imminent, permanent, unavoidable. I'll miss...you...