The Muse
We are dreamers. We are lovers. And we are thieves.
We steal moments away from this "real" world to create our own. A world of our choosing. A new reality where we can be anyone and within it anything is possible. One where we will allow ourselves to play, unfettered by the rules of the conventional world. Letting our desire, lust, and imagination frolic freely in this perfect playground of creative minds and willing bodies.
As I step into her embrace the cares and worries of the day are left outside on the doorstep (if only I could leave them there forever) - forgotten for this brief instant of time. When life is too harsh, demanding, or weary we build our fortress of erotic delights around us and the real world mercifully falls away. To be replaced by this wonderful new one in which the door is opened by the magical words "I want you". Such simple words. But they contain so much power and promise.
I hear her. She calls to me. My Muse. She is the Siren song of passion. She whispers in my ear possibilities. Things I can do, things I should do, things I must do. Teasing like only a lover that knows me well can. Always inspiring me to greater heights of pleasure and depths of fancy. The wait is over, the time has come. Our intertwined spirits (and bodies) caress and collide, impassioned with the knowledge that this is the real world. This one we created through sheer force of will. That other world (the one of mundanity) is the illusion, the imposter.
The timeline of the soul is surely measured in minutes of passion. These slices of time, these inspired moments... they are so precious.
But Muse, tell me - why must they go by so fast
