Without a muse
words are not poetry.
They are just words
which hide none of the flaws.
Like the emperor's new clothes,
naked words pretending to be
something they are not.
So forgive me for digging deep
to resuscitate a memory
of the muse you were to me.
Down within my heart
a glimmer, faint as it may be,
produces these inadequate lines.
Digital words.
Yesterday's thoughts
from well inside of me.
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