She slapped me across the face and said
I’m never speaking to you again
Then she kissed my still rosy-raw handprint cheek
And kept me up all night
Tells me in one ear that I’m special
Painstakingly chosen, gifted to speak unique
In the other ear I hear about all the others she treats the same
Her visits and her calls are haphazard and irregular
I drop what I’m doing to channel her gospel
Which later reads insane secular
Sometimes inspiration is hallucinations are inspiring
The weight I wrapped in tender embrace no more with morning ‘riving
Each time she leaves me with a stuffy mass of lines
A messy page that she lets me keep for life, and before
I even finish reading, she’s out the door and with
Another I don’t even
Know if she’s
Ever coming
Back