If I were his poetess...
.
Love would be written...
On the lines of our hands...
.
Trust would be printed...
On the tips our fingers...
.
And my commitment...
Would cover each strand...
.
Of Hi.story...
.
Words would be pouring...
.
*write* from his fountain...
Of which I drink...
.
As inspiration...
Reached it's peak...
.
And climaxed hard...
Within my ink...
.
Conceiving each piece...
.
Of potent poetry...
.
Literally leaking...
Lines from lower me...
.
Erotically...
.
I would scribe...
.
If i were his poetess...
A moment in time...
.
Would be seized...
.
While I found the words...
.
To love him like poetry...
Within a verse...
.
If i were his poetess...
He'd love me like prose...
.
If i were his poetess...
My lyrics would flow...
.
.
.
All over his canvas....
.
