Spent this life searching for my
muse
Slipping in the sip
The intellectual and sexual
In control and wanting to be taken
Understood in the nudity of thoughts
Daring an audience to bend past
assumptions
The woman is a living dare
Inspiration like a fired wick
I am drawn in by the cogs of the
clock
The hands dancing pointing at
numbers
Lost in Latin rhythms converted from
Germany
Hard beat in the shade, shock to the
knees like thunder
Transposing the appearance of an
entertainer
This is all for her; their looks are
the refrain
Of a ballet of rebellion asserting,
dangling
And how I imagine the inspiration
Hesitant to look because there is
distance in it
This proximity of voice to voice
Behind the makeup and costumed grace
Do not want to approach too fast to
spook the doe away
Dancing like an animus in the
antlers
Dreaming alive like painted mist
Confliction and acceptance, desire
and election
Wanting to see beyond the imaginary
The dichotomy of psychology and
kinetic art
The spectrum thrills like lightning
Muse to write of where she finds her
passions like flints
For where my thoughts may go
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