Writing Her
All I can ask for, from my lowly life;
Is to feel in love as I do writing.
An outpouring of emotional trust;
Fluttering and flourishing through each day,
With an energy we can't extinguish.
To find words in a soft, delicate soul
That hinders the most stubborn writer's block.
To see the dimples on her lower back
As I shape the curves of my lettering;
Dragging my ink from her breasts to her waist.
To find a silken voice so sweet and soft
It keeps my nib moist, my writing hand poised;
And eyes that deconstruct my whole being;
Every last molecule and particle.
A woman with the beauty of her God,
The mindset of a Poet Laureate and
The promiscuity of the Devil.
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