Muse

Was this hand made for caressing you? 
Or creating poetry? 
My dear, 
does it matter, 
when both are art?

Were these lips to speak of love?
Or to give a hundred time tenderness? 
My love, 
does it matter,
When both taste sweet?

Was my realm of fantasies 
A place where I seek inspiration? 
Or where we meet, 
Alone, as I whisper softly?
My darling,
does it matter,
when in both, I lose myself in you?