The Poet and The Crush

You said you love a poet

When’s the last time you’ve been tongue tied in my magnitude of imagery

When’s the last time your mind has been fucked beyond your weakness

When’s the last time a portrait of you was painted with words without a price tag of reasoning

When’s the last time you auctioned off your doubts and dove into the possibility of explosions between your thighs even my mind couldn’t comprehend

When’s the last time you told your crush “baby just write for me”

I love a poet 

Letting the mirror become a time machine traveling into your serene beauty I will make up every missed foundation you thought covered your dark spots

Void of concealing my passion I deep dive into waters my ass has no business trying to learn to swim in

I become the shark to your raw nature even the ambitious are left behind for the scraps of our feedings

I’ll eat you to Love Jones soundtracks watching the quiver as your back arches sealing hearts for eyes with every message your cellular waves deliver to me

Love a poet

I can’t haiku and limit us to possibility 

I’m an impatient mother fucker hell bent on being the heaven of your remedy

Breaking down your walls until the dam burst from pressure

Tasting the cognac from your tongue I’ll suck past the preface into the thesis

Past sexual there’s a soul healing connected with the audacious quiet incantation  

No labels could correctly acknowledge our creations

You said you love a poet

Then baby why are you still the “what if” crush

I’ve often ordained your figure in my mind 

Sifting through the empty bodies between us 

I get lost in lust trying to prepare this unjust loving only meant for your body

I’ll slip little raunchy notes in your lunch box reminding you of the dinner I want as you enter our home... I enter your home with you unable to condone the power... 

... this poet is waiting for the unsaid consent of her muse

Yes! 

I always devour