Poetic Dominatrix

musessmin cellar of imagination,

shackled by my fear of losing my edge,

these sloe-eyed beauties of ephemeral magic

are chained.


crack it once, twice, three times—


this whip of perseverance,


that I might use their curses for my pen,


their frustration for my ink.

their torment is my inspiration,


ending months of inconsolable language barrenness.


dry years drive my domination,


for where do the words go when your muse escapes?

fancy, fluttering scarves gently dance

as the bonds of creativity


are tested…


and confirmed.

no escape this time.

©2007 Sharon Gerlach

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Character-driven fiction. Because characters matter.

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