a Memo for the Muse

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

you are my minimum,

and my maximum,

you fill my valleys,

and sit atop my peaks,

you are my threshold,

without which

I'd care not to breathe.

if I had a story,

you'd be its heroin(e) - 

both that which I'd love to inhale,

and she who'd save me once I did.

never should you feel my absence,

because you've long held

the only part of me,

that's truly free in essence:

inside your chest, is

the kite I wish I was, 

held 

without string,

the bird I haven't yet become, 

soaring

with you as my wings.

Be steady and safe, my Muse,

patient and firm,

your other half

will

without a shadow's doubt,

find his way 

back to you,

iA.