My Schizophrenic Muse

You know my velvety weakness

Photo by Johannes Krupinski on Unsplash

My schizophrenic muse
you channel fucking and sucking
lips on nips, skin on skin
hard organs I can squeeze between my legs
you know my velvety weakness.
Oh you do.

Eruptions of words
body and soul just behind
applaud me because you’re hard
my pussy is wet but
It’ll be just temporary
I know your weakness, yes I do.

Stop tempting me you naughty muse
there’s a lot on the line
put away your whips
cut me loose from your binds
my mind’s the only casualty
in this tug of war soiree.

Tit for tat
I didn’t know it was
a contest, sweet muse
my ink spewed a Pollack masterpiece
in that last poem
now it’s your turn, silly girl.

Muse, tell them
lost in an orgy of ignorance
lapping up a crème Brule ecstasy
it took all morning to decontaminate
put the sheets in the laundry
to castrate your muse mind.

Beware my inspiring muse
won’t it be ironic
tongue drawn and quartered
your pen rendered flaccid
what good will you be then
my schizophrenic muse?

~I had all of these prompts I was trying to write to such as J.D. Harms’ one on
“sensations” and “something you don’t do well” and
Amanda Dalmas’ prompt about what comes after death! And then I’m totally obsessed with Patrick M. Ohana and his poetry about muses and pussy, and this is what I couldn’t stop thinking about!

Ann Marie Steele2021

I write poetry about love and loss, what I observe, experience, and pine for. I’m an acrobat, yogi & mom. My writing has been described as resiliently defiant.

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