Mime
Held captive by my muse
My muse beat me into captivity.
With a broad stroke of the pen,
she rewrote time’s stitches,
sealed my split foundation
with darkness and light.
She hovers over my carcass
chanting mysteries once held
inside death’s well, now
pouring out of my soul.
Like a mime, I play the role.
© 2023 Rena Aliston. All rights reserved.
