————

For a Languid Muse

Like a well bought derivative

you’re meaningless but profitable

like whores for plays, sickly and over-powdered

I’ve found you a role

dressed in white like a hopeful symbol

that inspires

but does nothing much besides

my creature, pure, of artifice

I wish to be moved most of all

by you

even if through liberal derision

by your lovely, limber form

this is just a disgraceful continuance of my lecherous adornment of you:

an adoring verb here (I apotheosize my love)

a gentling adjective for dressing

just a familiar orgy now

all of it

every line

a misery newly blind and bound by expectation

a cathouse in a loveless dusk

an atelier of rooted thieves with empty pockets and empty skill

a royal court without a queen

it’s growing dull, then duller still

you must let me feel less for you

as the inevitable conclusion forms merit

as a muzzle upon the hand with which I hold my pen

leave me be

finally a finality

a lament gutted by a smile

you’ve served a while

and now your time is done 

——–