Oh, weaver of words that form loves sweet taste upon my lips.
Leaving an imprint within my mind. A presence within my heart. A rope tugging at my soul. You outline my day. The capital LETTERS upon my form.
The exclamation! of the body’s desires… The question marks??? left like scars upon my flesh.
Oh weaver, my lover of words… That stops only for a period. Briefly making love effortlessly with a comma, I am but a Hyphen –away. A stanza in the warm breeze. I am but a verse longing for a rhyme.
Twirling colors of the rainbow. A draft of a word addict. Waiting to be born onto a new virgin page of a journal. Pressed ink upon my trembling pages.
Oh, weaver of words. I cry out to you in agony for a broader vocabulary to express my thoughts, my feelings, my visions of loves taste left to savor upon my tongue like peppermints. The minty taste of a lover’s embrace.
I space my letters carefully, searching for the keys. Typing away at your heart. Bleeding red ink upon the vast pages of the internet. While you weave your rainbow words into my soul! Leaving me full like a thanksgiving feast.
Leaves me craving for your delicate touch once again!