See all the coincidental lines
as you hold them to the sun.
See them sparkle
like brook-washed stones
freshly plucked in your palm.
They shimmer, precious as diamonds
that sparkle deeply to the music.
Oh, single muse, dance in each
glowing line that shapes each destiny.
Terpsichore, please bear the burden of
love on your gently sloping shoulders,
fresh and soft as morning dew.
This sinner's knees humbly brush
the marble of your temple, offering a
soft, pleading flesh and blood sacrifice...