Him
I want a guy that I can write poetry about and read it to him in bed at night, while laying on his back whispering in his ears, releasing my soul into his hearing, eargasms he hears. Then he turns me over, ready to make love afterwards, after I kissed his ear, after he can’t take anymore. Feelings he feels, he feels. Words fall, take root and he grows, his body goes in depth, speaking less, passion is the language, he still grows, lengths he goes, Who would of known poetry so soft would make a guy love so hard.