I want a poet in my bed
rendering stanzas on my skin
making a blank slate of silk and bedspreads
to compose of passion, lust and sin

I need a bard in my bed
to compose a sonnet in our hips
stressed... unstressed
alliterative luscious lips

take my nakedness as your muse
turn our bodies into a resonant couplet
write a sounding rhyme beneath my thighs
a ballad with ink and sweat

there's some overflowing free verse
to be spilled on my breast
soothing lyrics the tips of your fingers
reaching to my core, pleasuring unrest

I want a poem in my bed
take my to the point where love
we can make a simile
of hells underneath and heavens above