to the artists

Sunday, March 9

Let me be your muse.
Let me breathe inside your mind
and wrap myself in technicolor.
I want to drive you mad,
make paint bleed from your fingertips
and watercolors drip from your pores.
I want you to taste me as you dream,
Taste my aqua gaze,
my tangerine tongue.
Run your fingers through my hair
and sculpt every strand in clay.
I'll live in canvas and dance in marble.
I'll be your Nike, your Sistine Chapel.
Whisper my name to Van Gogh,
let Manet long to have me as you do.
Never let me die or fade.
Let me be your muse.

via *


  1. "let me be your muse".... yes!!! please!
    loving this...
    how have you been girl?...xoxo

    1. I've been great! How are you doing? Your new work is looking phenomenal!

  2. I often feel torn between my desire to be the artist, and my desire to be the muse.

  3. Wow, that was powerful. I absolutely loved it.

  4. oh. my. word. this poem is my muse.

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Thank you for your words; they light a fire in my heart. You are lovely.