He addressed her biography,
enveloped her in his essay.
They stood undressed--
naked nouns.
Whispering his wants,
her hormones were heightened by his haiku.
He awakened her antonyms.
Enticed--
ignited by the way he chose to indite her.
She was gently guided by his grammar,
and he took no time to
poetically penetrate her with his prose.
Flowing in her verses--
they sweat sonnets.
Ventured verbs--
the sentences began to run off the sheets.
Turning the page--
composition change.
Together they created a climax,
and she was submerged in his synonyms.
Her well full of ink,
yet the residue from his pen
continued to drip non-fiction over her fairy tale.
Refreshed by her rhythmic rupture,
he sealed his journal.
And she love-stoned off his lyric,
fastened her diary.
Gazing back at one another,
they knew this was just the beginning
of them writing their midsummer night's
wet dream.
