I Loved a Poet Once

Note: Here's some rhythm…I get decent feedback, I might post some more. I can rattle all day about nothing, and not care, but my soul is important to me…

 

~Poetress

He knows how I cum

how my breathing shatters windows

when I hit that crescendo

and words seep onto pages

I loved a poet once

and he loved every single erogenous zone

from that spot behind my ear

to my last poem

We left evidence of our love shaking

and verse making

in the paint on the walls of my bedroom

We graffitied murals

onto my sheets

We spoke stanzas simultaneously

and then separately

We agreed on where emphasis should be

where pauses should live

stuck between the creases of our lips

and the dip of our hips

We erased, tried again

got a new pen…when it ran out of ink

Stopped when writer's block didn't allow us to think

Then we looked into each other's eyes and found inspiration

I loved a poet once

He knew how to make me cum on pages

how to make me expose myself…

…not afraid to be naked…

He opened me up to a world where

I didn't have to fake it

He taught me that no words are wasted

and mistakes…to embrace it

He taught me not to be afraid of

wet spots

that just means you've been working hard

I loved a poet once

He left me with a

piece with no end

I don't want to lose my flow

So…

I need to find a new pen…