‘My muse,’
he said
stroking my face
his lips turned
upward
to reveal cheeks
plumped
from new joy.
The blood rushed
fast
to my own
and
out of habit
I dropped my eyes,
to the hairs
of his beard
as my mouth
wriggled
pursed
pressed
and parted:
a grin
trying
to escape.
And so it did.
Un-cuffed
bursting
into the sunlight
of his
face.
“My muse.”
