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The muse is a tease

Odd lines whispered in my ear, rhythms without content, content without shape. Jottings on a notepad which lead nowhere. And the frustration of a line which seems to be going somewhere, until I reach the last word, which just won't come, like reaching the edge of orgasm and not being able to *quite* get there, tensing and trying and trying not to try until I want to scream.


( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
Oct. 11th, 2004 06:42 pm (UTC)
I am no poet, but if the last word won't come, maybe you've already written the last word. Ride that current. Don't be in such a rush for climax!
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )