Writing From the Heart
I wrote this poem upon my lovers face,
So she would know that my love could never be erased,
I wrote this poem upon my lover's neck,
So she'd know,
Its her mind and soul I love,
Her thoughts and ideas I respect.
I wrote this poem upon my lover's breast,
To be sure that I had a place to sleep
after my night of conquest.
I continued pass her ribs down to her belly,
And with careful attention
And the best penmanship
To seal thy love
I wrote upon her hips.
From her hips down to her thighs,
I wrote the many special things
So she would never have to ask why,
From where does my love spring,
I wrote this poem upon my lover's spine.
To unveil the riches and treasures she'd once twined.
I wrote this poem upon my lover's arms,
To remind her I'll hold her and protect her from harm.
I wrote this poem upon my lover's inner thighs.
So I could recite this, after traveling her
sky.
In this age of tattoos, I broke the rules,
Like a child with a pen....
Stands on couch and stool,
I wrote all over the walls of her heart,
While substance and meaning seeped in.
Her skin sustained the ink like ancient hieroglyphics.
I wrote this poem upon my lover's back,
My eyes, witness to these erotic facts.
With lover's ink, across her smooth skin,
I wrote of the honey dripping from her pours,
Of how the ink that runneth,
And love that cometh blends.
I wrote upon my lover, with perminate ink,
from head to toe,
Heavan knows I had more to say,
But I wrote as far as the ink persisted to flow.
For Shannon
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