"Make love to me" she said.
"Use nothing but your words".

So I slid sentences down her chest
Scratched rhymes down her spine
And spilled soft, syllables into the curves of her neck.

I poured prose beneath her clothes
Left suspense in spaces and
Passion in sonant embraces.
I coloured her in cliches.

I kissed entire novels into her navel.

Her eyes gazed into mine as she began to unravel and unwind
As I slowly, unbuttoned, undressed
Indulged in and caressed
The fantasies in her mind.

Mesmerised, I memorised
Her from cover to cover.

Our bed the paper
Our hands the words
Our lips the verse.