There's a provocative quality to poems, don't you think?

Even though they are merely words upon a paper, they drip with a sweet and sticky seduction.
Passion and lust immortalized in black and white, capturing a carnal moment.
The words do tantalize and tease, for those unafraid to read it.
Your breath even hitches as the poem screams of those vivid teenage memories.

It's you inside the poem, digging your nails into his back, begging for the release you desperately  need.
It's your back that's arching, as he pushes harder and faster into you than ever before.
Who's screaming in heated passion as pleasure explodes throughout the body?

Is it you, sitting there, breathing slightly erratically?
Or is that only me? That feel the words come to life.

But after reading this, how can you not agree, that poems have a certain ****** quality?