Muse, I C ♬(poem)♪

My recent concert experience in poetic form…

A squadron of musical notes hitch rides
on silver dust motes amid light-streaked mist.
An autumnal draft carries melodic fragments onto my dry skin,
Each pore drinks until notes and grime are no more.

Micro boats in my bloodstream
set swift sail to my heart—
But the beat of the drums hit
its shores full-force first,
offsetting its own rhythm,
making a pulsating crescendo of my chest.

Several trebles uncoil from the stage
and crowd-surf straight to my tapping lace-up boots,
Then slither up each leg,
my midriff, torso, goosebumped neck,
and infiltrate my eyes.

All I see is a muse on fire.
The final song’s gasoline.
The effervescent wings
that spontaneously burst
from my back, unscathed.

I hover above the cataclysm for a moment longer,
then head to the home that will feel less like home now.
I’ll be washing off ashes from my eyelids for days—
And even then, the mosaic windows to my soul will never be the same.

© 2016 – Eva PoeteX

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