Some mornings,
She wakes me up with a wet sloppy kiss.
Some mornings,
She ****** out the nails on my coffin
And helps whistle my soul out.
Some noons,
I see her doing salsa with my charcoal shadows.
Some noons,
I find her on mountains, waiting with kites
And a sky full of wind, waving at my kid heart.
Some evenings,
She is found having coffee with my lazy beaten spirit.
Some evenings,
She summons winds to my windows with butterflies
And some of the best girly giggles.
Some nights,
She sleeps beside me, comforting my night and conscience.
Some nights,
I just hear her lullabies and birthing of roses dipped in moon,
But no sign of her in this universe.
She is MY MUSE.
