amuse

she told me she loved me  
because behind my arrogance  
she saw that I hated myself  
 
she saw seditiously  
through my stacks of skimmed through volumes  
and deflated my loquacious balloon  
of self hypnotized glamoury  
before I could even spell check  
 
she was more impressed  
when I didn't have the right thing to say  
 
with angelic reptilian eyes  
she owned my Madonna whore complex completely  
and decided my role of snail or soldier  
with each sway of her affection  
 
she is just a muse I try to tell myself  
 
I should have known  
by her maternity  
by her nurturing of everything that burns  
and forgets of tomorrow  
 
I should have known  
by the tattoo of an omega symbol  
on the small of her back  
that this seduction pertained  
to more than the normal organs  
 
I should have known  
that she was far from  
just a muse  
 
 
 
( a reworked older piece)