you slide beneath my sheets, Poet,
insinuate yourself between my intentions offering posies of images
garlands of metaphor
you seize my pen, wrestle the Muse
champion dark verbiage while I am mute with song
now my days and nights
are printed in lines between the sheets, you soothe me Poet,
each stroke, each inky mark,
a declaration
and then I turn the page and you are gone
xxx
