He wrote a poem on my body
He wrote a poem on my body His finger a tornado in ink
He wrote a poem on my body His finger a tornado in ink The perfect twist my body ablaze
A scotching hot fire Sweat spills
Kisses up and down my thighs in short delicate sentences
Ink stained sheets
He stopped. Looked at his master piece and said..
"I'll make you come with me now."
A hopeless romantic with a very dirty mind