They'll weigh your art against your heart at the gates between life and death.
An artist's muse can, if they choose, be a witness and tip the scales with flowery words or pretty glances.
And I was planning to speak for you as you placed your pen
On the pedestal against your beating heart.
My verses are old and well practiced
But it was you who opened your own mouth and
it was you
who unwound me to a golden thread
And it was you who wove me into the tapestry of
Your life, your art, and the poetry you learned from me.
I miss you, now that you've cheated eternity
And I remain your biggest fan wrapped in the fabric you weave back and forth
between my unliving life and the sunlit life of yours.