A muse
is visiting me this morning,
coming late in the night
in the pre-dawn hours,
slipping beside
me in bed, awakening
desire
of flesh and verse,
and bringing
words gushing
from her sacred spring
opened inside me
across the long hours
of defeated night
and the bright morning
with all the cold splendour
of days before winter,
and keeping up a bonfire
burning in me
next to the flowing spring
shattering the frost.
14.11.2025
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