sleuth

i do write the whole novel on your 

sadistically naked; dangerously baked &

perfectly packed body;

but will never ev'r let anyone read it at all, my lady. 

every page of your life do i fill; will drill

with an ink of my love, or may be,

will stain the holiness of your soul, very badly. 

what you're to me -- just an enigma!!

what i'm to you -- a figment of mind

allow me to be at your service 

& let me have the pleasure of yous this night

i prepare my every new script on your raged body;

re-edit it later right after not having you so soppy

my words're being drained by your pleasure

half dead, half alive, half conscious, or may be,

fully dreaded.. i am... but in your love

that makes me feel very poetic. so what should i call myself ---

a potter? real stalker? or mr. highlight reel groper --

crime branch highly authorized detective --

mr. sleuth... of your written-yet-unwritten poetry?

yes, overnight, i write whole new novel on your body

but it's certainly true, will never ev'r let anyone read it at all, my lady.