deepundergroundpoetry.com
Speaking To A Muse
It's been some time
since I've spoken with my muse,
a beauty bound by paper pages
dripping black ink and rouge.
There was broken
glass
at her feet,
and it was in
this place of pieces
we chose to meet.
I was dressed in black,
blending in to the dark alley
beyond a chain link fence,
I didn't know what to say,
but when she appeared
it all made sense.
She spoke of a dream
I once had when I was young,
then there was silence
aside from the sound of her tongue.
since I've spoken with my muse,
a beauty bound by paper pages
dripping black ink and rouge.
There was broken
glass
at her feet,
and it was in
this place of pieces
we chose to meet.
I was dressed in black,
blending in to the dark alley
beyond a chain link fence,
I didn't know what to say,
but when she appeared
it all made sense.
She spoke of a dream
I once had when I was young,
then there was silence
aside from the sound of her tongue.
Published 6th Mar 2016
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9th Mar 2016 10:15pm
26th Mar 2016 3:02am
I thoroughly enjoyed this poem because of how you magnify the words into stretches of images. It's one thing to read a poem but an entirely different thing to see it. Good work!
