Syllables beating, like your heart,
bringing the poem to life.
the rythym of your words
guides my hands down your body
like the rythym of a poem would guide my eyes down a page.
my eyes search your face for the plot,
the story...
the reason,
for this moment.
Your sentences twirling around my body,
wrapping themselves around my unspeakable's.
I gasp.
exhale.
you're inside me,
you're thoughts have temporarily invaded my once logical thinking.
we are. temporarily one.
I love a good poem.