Muse

Darling, I know I said I would stop

writing poetry for you

but I cannot.

Instead, I’ve stretched out a hammock strung between

my words so you can let yourself come and go

whenever you need to–

there’s no hurry in this place

no one else

knows the way to it, remember?

Not even a thousand promises broken

like glass strewn below your feet will hurt you

nor fire blown out of mouths in the night

or punches full of fury, a knife against your throat–

nothing will impede you coming to this place

when you need to escape the battle.

Come,

lie down and

be with me —

I won’t look if you want to be a secret

but will cherish the worn shape you make there

after you leave,

happy my words gave

you rest.

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