You know I'm a writer, right?
Well, let me be creative...
Pen a story of passion,
Written by tongue.
From deliberate to frivolous,
Strokes of the utensil
Create words that manifest.
The majority are vulgar,
But that's simply your translation.
I'm encouraged by your exhortations,
Even if they are profane exclamations.
Your nerve system is a blank tablet;
I'm only filling it with sensation,
Stimulating synapses with each stanza.
Your body writhes as pages turn;
Anticipation builds for the climax.
A tale of desire draws near completion;
Words become mere sounds,
Onomatopoeias abound.
Now authoring in cursive,
The pen swirls passionately around.
Pages turning,
Muscles tightening and hips churning,
And then...
I drown.
-A. Lewis
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