Making Love To the Muse

She followed me downward,
  her lips were on fire

From the depths of her lake,
  every wish she inspired

Water everywhere
  lily pads on end

A frog left unkissed
  the price of pretend

She looked at me sadly,
  the bottom came soon

My arms reached out madly
  to drown or to swoon

Her voice calling gently
  my spirit renamed  

As my soul she undressed
—inside her again

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2017)

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