ladyphoenix2016

   

Heart racing, breath quickened

How long, had she been touched

By a man, who wrote poetry

On her body

 

No space, did he overlook

She was like

A blank page

Awaiting his pen

 

To Write

In Words

Only what his tongue

Could Express

 

That she was the fire

That fed his only need

All the while

Her senses trembled in anticipation

To the story

Only he could write

Deeply within

Her secrets spilled out

 

Like wine upon his lips

The sweetest surrender

To a battle she lost

Before he even began