Poetic courtesan...

She covets your desires,
and stokes your passions
purposely evoking
all manner of fantasy.
she is drawn to the
most skilled Lothario,
one who can make her feel
his words in her womb,
awaken her passions with
every stroke of his plume.

Every letter,
e-v-e-r-y single verb,
as if in animalistic rut,
she feels it enter her sanctum
as a forceful thrust;
Ahhh she is nothing more
than a scripture whore,
bought by he who writes
the best, innuendoed  metaphor.

It is a vice, vicious at its base
yet on it surface
it’s beauty hides
the duality of it’s face.
The magic and glamour lay
in it’s letters and fonts,
the vocabulary exquisitely chosen
to express forbidden desires
and hidden wants.

There is no act of contrition
when it comes to
this mental seduction
between poet and
literature starved victim.
This is sensual display of sedition.  
Oh… how we yearn to have
this drug fed into our veins
letting it graphically fan
our imaginations’ lustful flames.

Yes, I am a poetic courtesan,
I solicit my suitor’s sensual poetry
and erotic sonnets upon demand,
fore it is the price to be paid
to receive the delicate cursive
written by my hand.
I give myself with word
conveying the climax he demands,  
but do not let the elegance
fool you my loves,
for beneath the surface
lies not a gentle dove
or a passive lamb,
but instead a purring beast
that awaits a learned hand.

Gypsy Red