rewrite

Mortem Artis

is set aside the golden lyre
forgot the pointed quill
the canvas stretched remains unspoiled
the wheel it sits quite still
no strings to sing a lover’s song
no ink a heart to spill
colours crack upon the wood
as art requires life’s skill
dust has gathered on the dreams
that fuelled his ballad’s fill
the muse has left the vacant form
no more to drive his will.

INTENTION

that I may undo you with simply a word
with phrases said softly, intentions unheard
that I may impart each wish and each need
with only a whisper planting the seed.

that I may undress you with but a glance
looks traded between us in visual dance
that for those few moments the knowledge is clear
a pact pure between us, a promise sincere