sacrifice to the muse

i read a free verse memoir recently
"you remind me of you" by eireann corrigan

i've been wondering something recently

why i don't write vignettes anymore.

if you peruse through everything i wrote in the first incarnation of this blog
"Heart & Crossbones"
nearly everything was cryptic and lyrical

the memoir i read, it reminded me not of you,
but of me
if i extracted all of those pretty words
could i also publish a 123-page memoir?

there have been spurts of creative power here and there in recent years
but they've all been induced by emotional turmoil
that came and went like a seasonal storm
but nothing like what you triggered
because your power over me could move the tides

a part of me fears
that those words
have now run dry

almost as if i need to lay out my heart at the altar,
to keep my muse satisfied.