Muse
Vacant eyes, these swinging highs,
Three finsihed cigarettes, an overflowing desk-
The stage is set.
Your tender gaze comes with some exertion.
Kisses smudged on cigarettes butts, you are playing your part well.
Vacant eyes, swollen thighs,
Would this be enough to keep this alive?
2 am- tired, distant, this act of love.
There it is, your tender gaze.
Vacant eyes; you fear you have lost your muse.
It comes to you in a dream;
Half awake, you scribble.
You understand the words,
just not what they mean together.
You understand me,
just not what it means to be together.
-aria
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