Oh, I see—you liked it when I used that big word, huh?
You want me to use some more?
Mm, let me just grab my pocket Thesaurus.
Yeah, that's right baby, I take it everywhere with me—
I find it quite useful in these… situations.

Right now, I could give you seven variations
of the word “****.”
Seductive
         Arousing
                Provocative
                          Se­nsuous
                 Mmhm, you liked that one, didn't you?
                    Libidinous
           Suggestive
Titillating…
You'd like more, I can tell,
but I need you to want it.

Let's go somewhere quiet
and thumb through
my college style manuals for a few hours.
We could talk about sentence variety,
the Oxford comma, some syntax,
and mm, if you're feeling real good,
maybe even discuss the proper usage of a semi-colon.

Just know, I've been saving semi-colons
for, you know, that special someone.

If things get a little steamy, we can go down to the basement
and I'll show you my Scrabble board.
I'll set you up for a triple-word score,
and you can put together some of those high-scoring,
two-letter words that really get me going.
Oh yeah, I think I'd be into your strategy.

When the game is over, I'll lean you back,
come in real close, and whisper some Neruda,
some Cummings,
some Dickinson
softly into your ear.
Afterward, I’ll trace lines of Hughes and Whitman
down your naked spine with my fingers.

I'm sure you know it's only polite
to return the favor.

It's just an idea.
I know it sounds good.
Trust me, I'll be gentle—
But baby, believe me—
I could punctuate you in all the right places.

You text yourself snipets of thoughts/lines, and when you go back to retrieve them you notice the only person you've texted back all day was yourself.

Every inane, ignorant, stupid, barbaric, primitive conversation you're hearing at the check out line you're counting on your fingers to see if it adds up to 10 and figuring you can always make you're you are when it adds up to 9.

You know you're a poet when you cry at night after the words you wrote on your hand that morning got rubbed off during the day.

You know you're a poet when you nearly **** your best friend over a notepad and a pen.

You know you're a poet when you're up till 4 am pairing words for future rhymes.