Muse

Throwing the smooth clothes, burning the heart that remained without silence in solid echoes,

she came from nowhere, from black and white, now and never

Her bosoms I touched became one

with the hand … my fingers became

her lungs that turned into knowledge,

the hands gave birth to blue feathers

buried six feet under in ink,

her footsteps sank in mystery

my crucified words on the top

of the virgin page of my thought

she tastes like apples,

she sings like mermaids;

through her eyes have seen

Medusa; her lie,

Delilah hides and

chariots

of fire

will carry

stardust –

so called,

my

MUSE!