Dozing off,
whether from
the hour or the
Rolling Rocks,
I missed her last
question-
How do you
know its magic?
How do I explain
the sense of gravity,
the pulling force
that drew me
as I saw her that
first time?
How can I say
to her
that the world
and those things greater
beyond it really
rarely puts two
spirits in circumstances
allowing them
to know that they
already share love
of art and song-
that the power of
words
strung together
in wonderful synchronicity
move the both of them
in ways deeper
than most can fathom.
Beauty certainly,
but more in the spell,
inspiration and creation
so much more
than lust.
Lust though,
remains.
The most magic
thing of all, this
relationship between poet and muse.
Magic and beauty
and lust and love-
and only a
supernatural universe
can offer your answer,
or me my muse.
