it would
seem that,
after many moons
of absence,
the Muses are once again...
at Play
in the liminal
Moonlight of
my imagination.
i dare not call myself a poet.
but these wordforms
that conspire to steal my rem sleep and
contrive to articulate
my fingers,
they love to
hijack my private
time and personal space
in order to
take shape
the words they weave
they have struck once more
with blind force
and the things i
planned are dead.
but the words unsaid
are blooming.
and beg you
to be read.
YOU ARE READING
in reality, my love...
Poetrya humble collection of whispered prayers to the Goddesses Muse "There is a world of worlds within Worlds, here among us, in this Nexus of story and imagination, and the community we co-create around it." ~The Writer, Prelude to Everything, Ch...
