Oh arrows through my chest
The archer didn't mean to send you my way
Nor did he mean to be an archer
Nor a muse, a lure, a charmer
But there you are, pressed against my heart
Sending the beats humming, leaning towards
The spotlight illuminating the dancer.

What can one do with arrows through the chest
When they are making their own way,
Paving a lane for the dance of the archer
Allowing the muse, the lure and the charmer
Inside the heart, in with the pressure
The rest of the body arched forward,
In the shade I remain the admirer.

November 2008/ May 2009.

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