Muse Poem by M.L. Squier

You have now become the bright
Heavenly ink of my dark soul
To write about the night or love,
And the tight, painful feelings
Of loving you-but which
Soften as we touch.
O, to write about us!
The Moon!
Truth lives in your eyes.
I will dwell there until we sleep again,
Silently on the bosom of the warm, dark earth,
Waiting to change into dust
That shall touch and recall
That hour of our mother's
Warm and watery womb.