What fee would you exact to be my artist

[joel]

What fee would you exact to be my artist
storyteller, be the one I choose
to rest the rest of me when pieces of
my love chaotic weep creative need,
supportive basis, true necessity—
What price, what cost for you to heal me, Dove?—
your brokenness that you might equal know
my peace? Perhaps it might be apropos
in breaking you for love of art, for love
itself. I’ll pay what love demands of me;
I’ll slap whatever currency, whatever greedy
payment asked of me – alone for love –
against your songbird artist soul: the blues
ain’t nothin’ but a beatin’ to your heart.