i have nothing left to give said the muse disconcerting news that forces my writer’s imagination to find release in solitary thinking in fantasies dreams words that propel me into ian’s blue hawaiian spiral wings send me soaring over red hot molten rock that burns the trees winding through lush green valleys forests that climb up steep cliffs where ropes of sugar sweet white fizz cascade down until my brain whirls like an airfoil pours out novel words new lines to paint a story like the goddess of fire gushes passion from her pit and coats the earth’s crust in black and silver mahalo pele