I see it
pink and full
still and quivering
as the back of the fog moves closer around her.
I see it
yet it doesn’t move.
Always shut closed
never revealing any secrets
the secrets of living.
Move.
Say something beautiful.
Say something to make my skin turn into rain.
Say it and lift my ears past the heavens
to place not yet explored.
It needs to come from there.
Not anywhere else.
Saint's Muse 