being
Comments: You ask me who my muse is, and my muse is you.
your eyelids flutter
and your arms encircle me
i am lost in you:
you serenade me
with words, a master with them
like Mozart and the
piano. i would
listen to your voice
all day, if i could.
and your eyes are so
flawless; a simple kind of
blue you just can't seem
to find anywhere else.
your skin under my touch is
something like velvet
on marble.