waiting for the muse
as an unidentifiable pain
subsides

excuses for inaction
never were as effective
as a well-placed
well thought-out
whine

i click
i share
pretend

the last thing i need
i can’t remember why

i plop
i pine
distract

the only one i want
lest i forget to cry

feeling history’s razor
on the edge
our kindled love
abides

never mind the autumn
we shall find our warmth
in random acts of creation

and survive

——

My Sweetheart will know even more

Blessed…

m(___)m