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Amatory Guru

by Kerowyn Rose

My muse
Doesn’t know his name
Lost in the midst of past life
Memories that were slain
Wiped clean from his brain
The present is what matters

I know
My muse
Doesn’t know his name
So much like me
That is why we collide
Come together like the tide
Swirls in the stirring sand

I see
My muse
Who doesn’t know his name
I watch him stand at ease
Corporeal when on his knees
Praying; a gentle breeze
Sweeps between us

I wonder
My muse
Does he know
If his name were ever spoken
The mystery would be broken
Leaving behind token-less words
How fragile existence is


Posted on 08/30/2012
Copyright © 2022 Kerowyn Rose

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 09/01/12 at 01:26 AM

There are some subtle aspects to this muse that draw me in - past memories wiped clean; the magic of III. with muse on knees - the gentle breeze; and the fragile nature of IV. Thanks for this.

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