for a minute, she was my muse.

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It was dawn when it happened

I was taking a walk and then she appeared like a goddess.

The only light on her face was the red mist from the smoke she was having .

In the very heart of the blackest night.

At a the corner of 5th and something.

I swear it was like she manifested from the graffiti on the wall.

There were highlights of orange, red and blue on her features.

I was entranced.

It hit me like a wave.

Something I’d experienced a million times before but in a new-found intensity.

I was floating with the colors of her face.

Flying in a sea of words that meant nothing and everything.

When something within me stirred.

There I was, tossing words,

hoping to  god they were never to be heard.

She never stopped walking, my angel in colors

I never got to see the true face of my  minute muse.

Everything about her inspired me.

Everything about her baffled me.

I closed my eyes for a second.

She was gone.

I kept staring at the graffiti on the wall

Hoping,

Praying

For another glimpse.

She always appeared though,

At least in my head,

In a sea of rainbows.

Protected from all this mundane gray.

At least for that, I should be thankful,

 At least ..

She reminded me

I could still be inspired.

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