Tuesday, April 25, 2006

My Muse

She is a stiff necked girl
She looks neither to the left
Nor to the right
What she does not see tears at my heart

When she comes to me
My desert is gone
Replaced by a rugged landscape
Of formal rocks
And proud trees
My thirst is forgotten

But where are we?
Who are we?
We say a few words;
What do they mean?

Then she walks away like the last train out of Paris
Leaving a vacuum
For the armies of doubt to invade

She is a stiff necked girl
Yet she sees everything
Does she see me?


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