The Muse

I love you, he says
Confused, stumbling over words
Prayerful supplicant

I seek clarity
Whispers the poet, and wisdom
She smiles invitingly

Red lips part slightly
Revealing sharp teeth, bright-white
Like diamonds flashing

Lead me to the truth
By your beauty, and goodness
Your willing servant, I

He says, withdrawing
Drugged as the lotus eaters
Hallucinating

She opens her eyes
Deep-blue pools, like cobalt fire
Burning without light

She embraces him
The wretched poet, victim
Drowning in the night