Why do you ~ Make love to me With your Beautiful Words of Poetry?
Don't you know? Those lovely, long Fingers of yours' Arouse me to Unimaginable Ecstasy?
I imagine them all over me'
Need I say more?
Come, make love to me No, not in your Poetry.
Please lie here beside me And allow me to show you How passion writes poetry Without ink, without paper.
It only needs you and me To etch those marathon lines With our tracing fingers ~ And our lips erasing them On the smoothened slates of Our voraciously expressive bodies.
