And it was deeper than any amount of verses on a scroll,
Emotions went beyond the need of literary ink transfusions for survival
Willing to trade words for sentences spilling into pools of de-oxygenated liquids libations of dark blue ink that could only be meant by he for me
Love became an action word turned into an adverb, redefined into a synonym and i could not pause the exhilarating feeling like commas or end it like periods, but continued like fiendish ellipses.
It was like a breath of fresh air puncturing the lungs and connecting the vocal cords as he sucked verbatim out of me redirecting the esophagus only to breath him and him only
Connecting the plug directly to the stimuli of my brain as he became controller of my most intimate desires
Combining pens and poetry into collabo-etry felt like earth wind fire and water combining to be a metamorphosed element.
The mental incitement was as juicy as biting into forbidden fruit that with every
"He became my voodoo priest and I his faithful concubine"-Jill Scott
As I could feel every consonant and every vowel he performed onto bare flesh
As perplexing as the message being printed,
Syllables screech as quill scrapes into skin
I fell in love with a poet once and it was magical like Mary Poppins type imagery
Rhythmically rotating pens into rolls of masterpieces as I dreamed of perfect prose of where his feet would. Step next.
Until my brain storming began to rain as I gave the best stanzas I could spew and swallowed phrases. The clouds of my melodramas grew heavy and thick.
Super powers falling into the fog. Silenced. Aching throbbing pens tumbling down as thunder rolled.
I fell I. Love with a poet once....to result in it being my friendliest foe...