Call to Arms

I look across the mirror at you -
a reflection’s reflection, framed.
I offer you the world, upon a word,
wrapped in brown paper, our world –
The one place we make sense,
where we understand each other
Completely.

Step from the mirror, take my hand,
know your place, vastly penned empire
of words beyond measure like brushes
Upon canvas, stars upon night,
sand upon shore.

This is our nature; blow off your dust,
as the muse’s lips brush delicately
Over the lobe of your ear, commanding
Your creativity into action
like a mare in heat, waiting
to be taken, explosively.