Paradise, Fool || Poetry

Yet Another Love Poem

22 February, 2023
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Yes, yet another love poem
Because the city woke up to a blanket of fog
Unexplained
Though when it went to sleep, the fans were whirring
And I was tipsy on booze my friend sneaked out of a stranger's party
Craving a pizza noone would deliver to this part of the city
And everything felt mundane and miserable the way life without a muse feels mundane and miserable.
But there was fog in the morning
The world outside my window a sea of white
Reminding me of vacations to hill stations you and I never took and never will
But vacations that I often dream of
On days when the fog and pizza doesn't come to this part of the city –
Fog and pizza often does not come to this part of the city
And well, neither do you.
I understand your hesitancy, of course
Did an artist ever really love their muse?
You, drunk on glitter and sunshine
You, bathed in laughter and pastels
Like an unexplainable fog lingering long after winter fades,
You are magic, after all
The impossibility of you the most romantic part of you
You'll never love me
Because when did an artist's muse ever love them back?
Oh
When was an artist's muse ever even real in the first place?