the muse descends
[ from Everything You’ve Heard is True ]
it was a Tuesday, there she sat drinking her tea through steam with slow lips. she was twenty feet away from me yet had already wrapped herself around my insides. dopamine struck the brain with a heavy dose as she walked over and sat close. hi there, she said, with wide eyes of blue, decorated by Egyptian black lines. the sun circled the earth and there she sat, holding my skull softly against her chest, blowing out the candle, pausing to watch the smoke drift. the morning was just how i wanted it— waking with heavy rain dancing on a tin roof, the window drawing road maps across pane and plate her hand interlocked with mine, as we lay twisted in sheets still warm from last night.