You who stirred the words into my soul,
Brought them to life, animated them
With allegory and wit.
As if the Nine Muses had sung to my ear,
And Calliope herself had donned me
With the poems she'd once writ.

Or Sappho of ******, among secretive violets,
Absorbed by the lyre, she pens to revive it;
Not the song, or the tune,
But the calm way the song moved
The violets across the field-
This inspiration, she could wield.

Don't you see now, how it's not poetry the poet will choose?
For every poem the poet pens one shall require an equal Muse.

Let us go nightswimming
And weave myths out of memories

Let the stars shine over
The corals of your heart

With bioluminescent algae
Glowing around your body

As if a glow in the dark crucifix
Beatific as the moment of death

Smell the salty air
Neptune's drunken breath

And dance by the beach
With the partygoers drunk

In their mythmaking
Ecstatic like a monk

Weave the night, yes weave
Our breaths into a myth

Into Odysseus sailing the Aegean
Into the miraculous with the Galilean

if i disappeared
would i become like echo?
the words on my tongue
fading into the wind,
my spoken words echoing around me
as i’m hallowed out by the silence.

if i disappeared
would i become like eurydice?
my ghost lingering behind my husband
who reaches the light with me not far behind;
only to turn and **** me.

if i disappeared
would i be come like icarus?
too stubborn and
in love with the sun-  
only to meet my fate into a watery grave.

—— if i disappeared would i too become a story? // a.

with ebony feathers being ruffled with the wind,
he perched on his little ledge, a morning routine.
silently, observing moments of the day
sitting unnoticed to the beings crossing below.
with their busy tones and headphones,
their feet making quick steps, never stopping to think,

he wondered.

do they enjoy missing moments like these?
as he pitied the humans who never even noticed
the little shadows leading, dancing at their feet
and the disappearance of the crow,
leaving only three tracks on the wall.