Published on: 7/15/2010
Muse

It seems the journey has not been easy for you, either.
You return shaking lint off tattered wings,
and have also lost your lyre. I wonder
why you had left me to suffer alone,
dipping ink from my veins instead of yours.

What I don't tell you, while I suture
your wings with these modest words, is that I
was afraid you'd arrive and I wouldn't know
how to snip the stitches of sorrow that held me together.
I had waited for your melody to unbind my mortal heart.

And now you're ready to leave again,
yet do not tell me where you plan to go.
As I place my ear to your chest and memorize
your heartbeat, clouds amass and churn in our silence.
Wind sings around us because we are in its way.