You hear the words calling,
  but what if they stop

What if the voice changes
  to cold what was hot

And it’s not yours at all
  but a squatter that hides

D.N.A. of its own
  new agenda of lies

Those messages before,
  were they gifts or on loan

Is the feast yours to eat,
  will meat stay on the bone

Will the Muse be unfaithful,
  is divorce in the wind

Leaving words then unnamed
  —orphaned silent within

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2014)