I, the ragged muse

Dragged like a doll

From room to room.

Do I make you write ethereal music,

Passages from beyond this world?

I was once a girl who worshipped,

And became a woman

Who wanted to be worshipped.

I stained my mouth red,

My eyes charcoal, like Cleo.

I rubbed myrrh and sandalwood

Into my limbs,

As any muse would do

To intoxicate, to cloud reason,

To appear like a dream. .

The curls in my hair reached further each day,

Until at last you were bound

By a soft design

That was killing you.