Encounter.

when the muse comes for you, you will know:
she is not a kind lover,
but she IS beautiful.
her breasts, despite the cliches of mountains,
are but sleek river banks---soft and warm,
but before you rest your bones,
she will find a flood
and drown all your comfort.
when you look into her eyes,
you will see not stars or lakes
or pools of ethereal light
but vast deserts---you will see
where oceans have missed the land
and you will learn
of desire beyond your physical body.
the type of ache that
stretches for miles and eons.

she will appear in the shroud of twilight,
just as the sun is escaping the sky
and the opposite horizon echos a purple hue.
at first, especially if you're not paying attention,
she will seem to be an old maid,
bent over with a cane to support her wilting frame.
but as your eyes learn of her image,
you will see the waterfalls of hair
flowing down her back
and a face that tells fortunes for a smile.

when the muse comes for you, you will know:
she is not a kind lover,
but she IS beautiful.
remember not to run as you see her.
at first she is frightening,
and as you look on,
she will only become more so.
don't pretend that you are brave,
just let your fear wash over you.
though her gnashing teeth may make you falter,
and her claws seem sharp and angry,
her hips are built to rock you
her skin sewn together to fulfill every wish.

when the muse comes for you,
put down everything else you are doing
and run to her side.
she is not here to comfort you,
but she will show you things you've never seen
before and could never see without her.


Originally performed on open mic 10/14/10
Originally written on 10/12/10