First. I make no promises.
My Muse, she's the bees knees when she comes around, but let me tell you, her work ethic leaves a little to be desired these days.
(Just kidding, Sweetie. You know I love you. I respect you. I do not understand your mysterioso ways, but I trust you implicitly, honey cakes. See me bowing down? Smell the tea on the table, those candles burning on the mantle? For you. All for you, baby.)
Fuck. I've already lied to The Muse. There's no tea in my cup, it's coffee. And there are no candles burning. Nice start.
She knows anyway. First one to call bullshit on me every time. I got my fingers on the keys, though. That's got to count for something.
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