Unsuspecting Muse

By Hannah Murphy

Painting by Lilymay Healy

I’m not sure what to make of it,

but I can make poetry out of you.

That day I kissed you first

is a sonnet now.

I can make poetry out of you.

The sand left on the seats of your car

is a sonnet now,

and our swimsuits left to dry on fences.

The sand left on the seats of your car

is just a poem I wrote.

Our swimsuits left to dry on fences

is something I stole from us.

A poem I wrote is just

memories of you typed in Garamond.

I stole something from us,

I take poetry out of you.

Memories of you typed in Garamond

like that day I kissed you first.

I take poetry out of you,

I’m not sure what you make of it.