MY Muse

I mentally gave you access to my body the day I sat on the bed across from you. Your words were honeycomb — sweet on the lips, sweet in the stomach — leaving me drooling, aching to kiss them off your mouth. You satiated parts of me that once felt unquenchable. You reached into the depths of my soul, carving your emblem into me — one to be passed down from generation to generation. You are a master of neuroanatomy, knowing exactly which part of my mind to dissect, filling me with your goodness. Intensifying, as you caress my thoughts with your intelligence. I was naked, yet your words clothed me. I was vulnerable, yet your actions hypnotized me. You are my muse.