deepundergroundpoetry.com

Blank Page Nympho

We all stare
a gal like her
must be every writer's dream--
sweet symphony of moans
in pristine white
fresh young limbs
spread out wide
just busting
with her come to bed eyes
all brand new
virgin cutey pie bride
gagging for you
to pop her cherry
however you want it
every day God gave

Most mornings
she'll start slow
she loves to tease
with a flutter of corny lines
smiling and flirting
over cliche
waiting for your keyboard
to glow
until it's hard & hot
& hornier than a toad

Clinging to the word flow
fierce and wild
she caresses
the delicate skin of your soul
begging for the rush
of consonants and vowels
craving completion
to fill her
and make her whole

Sometimes she'll linger
between the lines
(if you're lucky
you might come up for air)
so while she licks her lips
you sip your tea
watching her cursor
panting silently for more
trying your darnedest
to look away

You call her names
tell her it's over
that you can't go on
yelling poetry's a whore
that her kind
was only ever good
for shredding the hearts of fools
to leave them dirty
and washed up in the gutter
screaming emptier
than marrow sucked bones

But she's yours forever
and always exquisite
the lure remains
a goddess for your trembling hand
drawing you back to her passion
as with perfect timing
she reels you in
again