How poets make love

Warning: Explicit ‘kind-of’ content


Bold-Male’s Perspective

Italic-Female’s Perspective

Read while listening to: Gorilla-Bruno Mars

Sexual Healing-Marvin Gaye

I could write a sonnet about how beautiful you look in your black satin gown that trails behind your back, covering only minimal skin that tease the monster in me. But darling, as far as my vocabulary goes, I could more profoundly write an anthology without it on you. no pen nor paper needed for my tongue will imprint them on your skin so you’d be reminded that you’re a disaster that miraculously restores the humanity in me, you’re the kind of crime that I’d never ‘appeal not guilty’ of committing, the kind of sin that I would gladly commit every day.

Because every line, every curve, every space that your body occupy is a temple that deserves to be love, adore and get lost to. You’re a goddess that makes every atheist worship you instead. Know that every bone, every missing part in me craves everything that is whole in you.

For you are the exact definition of ‘breathtaking’, let me engulf you with praise for you are my salvation; my rescue, regardless of all the dangers hidden beneath your dress. But above all, you’re a masterpiece that no museum can ever handle your extremes.

I am Zeus, for i will make little thunderbolts that’ll make your body dance in rhythm.


Come and swim in my embrace, in my bloodstream and let my arteries be your guide. Discover all the untold secrets that only you can enjoy. Lose yourself in my spears, in my oceans, in the thunderclap between my legs. Lose yourself in my softness, live the life under my skin and love my every deep and rise. 

Don’t be afraid to love me and kiss me harder, never be scared to learn how to make my body quiver. You’re free to discover all the languages I dance in. Let our tongues battle, swirl everything you are to everything I am. Like a cake, devour me. But remember, I am made of sweeter things than sugar.

Let’s turn fuck into prayer, let our moans reach the heavens. May the gods watch and be jealous. Let them know that we’re both made of sweat and desire. Make the flavor of my skin your favorite.

Let the air that I breathe occupy your lungs.

Let me satisfy your quench.

Let my moles, freckles and even scars become the home of your wanting fingers.

Let your pleasures pull in the dimples in my back. I am your surrender, your Aphrodite.

I am kerosene kisses and I dare you, set me on fire.