Lover & Muse

* This poem was first published in the March 2026 issue of Doublespeak Magazine *

You brought me words ever so often

– you still do now and then.

When I read yours, I wonder whence they come to you,

how and when.

I wonder if you pick them lying flat

or nudge them out of a difficult chair.

Do they perch on your window? Do you leave them at the station?

Do they get away with mussing your hair?

I picture you drawing them out of smoke

and settling them with a mere stub.

When I try to puff while writing

my thoughts go out and lose their nub!

Pausing, thinking, crossing, nodding –

until you're through, do you push food away?

Dazing, looming, peaking, falling,

do they prefer Nyx to the light of the day?

I was a lover and I found a muse –

the one aye invoked in lore,

Her kiss with the mark of Love I did confuse

as it left a sear on my core.

Rapt with all that Absinthe in my veins

I staggered to seize her fading contour.

Alas, she vanished! yet her gift remains.

Old masters, I envy you no more.

- Mukta ‘ Asraar