The Liquid Muse

The liquid demon,

The one above my head and behind my back,

The sneaky one,

That hides right in front of my face,

Never letting up, never letting down,

Always whispering that sweet seductive call.

It’s like a chameleon,

Always changing,

Sometimes its amber brown,

Like an old soft slipper.

Other times,

It’s clear, as clear as spring water,

Clear enough to see my own reflection.

It’s like a siren of the sea,

A muse that wants to sink her claws into my back,

To give rapture,

A sweet escape,

Until the claws are so deep you can’t escape,

You writhe and buck and skip,

Trying to escape but her hold is sure and strong,

She has held you before and while you long for it,

You know that to give in is a death sentence.

That is when she turns to black,

Ugly and heavy,

With eyes of fire that you want to let take you in,

But no,

Not tonight,

Tonight, I walk in the light and my armor is strong,

You cannot have me, be gone,

You sick, twisted muse,

I have found another and she will not seek to pull me down.