I met myself a poet… And he makes me smile
We’ve exchanged words, messages for a little while.
And I can’t help but get lost in my imagination
I imagine so much for him I think of myself caught in a bout of infatuation…
I imagine him and what his kiss would feel like…
All over my lips, neck, and hips and how It’d feel just right…
Every word in every message that we send back and forth
Makes me remember how its the little things that mean so much more…
Seeing his true self through his words makes me wanna undress
It’s his words that I read that make me want to be his next conquest,
His muse, and inspiration…
I wonder what kind of dedication
He would give to my body and to light my souls flame
Simply based on the passion he gives words on a page…

I imagine coming home with him after drink and dance
Make my body take his mind to a blissful state of trance
To make those hands that write words with such passion and force
Feel me, please me, let nature takes its course
I imagine my lips on him, his hands on me
Making sensual poetry that speaks of ecstasy…
Mutual movement with the sweetness of honey and smoothness of cream
We compose works of art on each other until taken by sleep filled with artistic dreams…

But even so, I wake up and find myself alone
But to my welcome surprise, what woke me was my poets message tone…

“Good morning”

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