Helen Coburn + Aimee Yang

Muse

Last December,
Beyond the walls of time and space
I went wild with you, threading my bit through
Your nostrils – breathing up and down; dragging on and off.

Our spark was temporal but extreme,
So I left memos as far as my memory permitted:
From A-Z tattooed on your navel, to the Morse code setup in your
Genes which your sparse hair will keep even a thousand years later.

I was full of existence; you were full of persistence.
I loved you; you withheld me.
I took off a heavy shell; you put on an armored suit.

How queer – you’ve cast a spell on me, I suffer from now.
I carved you, and tasted that carved you; replayed you
In my memory was very juicy. I stretched my tongue to
Lick you up, and  you - became a new baby, by my saliva.

How queer – the baby
Is watching me now, like the last leaf on the naked tree 
Is looking at the last sign of the wind. So I keep me hidden from
Those eyes. I need detoxification–

Into the cave I crawled, to carve your body and soul again
Till it’s broken into shreds. More realistically than ominously
Your valleys will be displayed inside out like shiny intestines
On a chopping board.

Locked in contracted muscles – your love, I tried to pierce
It through to reach you and bring you; breaking the taboo
Of ‘something more beautiful upon not settling’, I rushed
Into your heart, riding the fatal breath of Muse.

Thus –
I fell into an abyss out of fantasy;
A faint, mysterious headache has begun since.