His Muse

Everything I wanted…
Was found in the way he wrote my name
The letters he chose to silence
The full stops and the spaces
Raged the fire within
The man was rare
Thirsty for words
His hunger burned through ink,
His flame turned paper to ash.

He deliberately pumped my blood
Though only to fuel his pen….
He touched and marvelled my skin
To plan and map out a story

His mind…
… a weapon for internal destruction.

I was his muse
His dictionary
A tool for his art

When I looked through his bookcase
I found all that I needed to know
Scatted in rambling thoughts
Of iconic poets now passed.
Everything tangled within…
Stunningly made treacherous sense

Be aware of a man who reads
But always beware of a man who writes…

Words… Alex Myles
Image…José Manuel Ríos Valiente

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