Pin me down with chains
Or else my inner passion
will eat you alive

Perfect hourglass,
Sand falls elegantly through
Those mystical curves.

Eyes like dark brown pearls,
Lighting up my impulses
Which are otiose.

I cant resist any
longer, I want to make art,
And us the picture

I know poetry
Made me age quicker as each
Line wrote are wrinkles.

Love at the doorstep
I am here on your doormat
Just ringing your bell

I wrote you a poem.
You said that you liked it.
I added a ****.
You could say that I spiked it.

You left me no comment.
You said not a word.
Now it sits there unwanted.
My poem's now curd.

I could write you another.
A little less rhymey?
Something romantic.
Not nearly as grimey?

I'll leave out the ****.
The ***** and the lows.
I could write you of sorrow.
Of heartache and woes.

Just tell me dear reader.
What do you want?
Love and raw passion?
Except leave out the -unt?