I MISS BEING YOUR MUSE
I miss receiving poetry
on my pillow-
about my eyes, my hair, my breasts.
I miss receiving poetry
at the most random places-
about your love for me.
I miss reading poetry
in our shared diary-
about us.
I miss being-
your inspiration,
your love,
your muse.
Do you still write?
Do you still love?
Do you still live?
Can you do without your muse?
I still write.
I still love.
I still love; but there is a but-
I miss being your muse.
I miss my muse.
