Spoken Word Poetry
Like art spilled across the canvas of my bed,
A masterpiece in motion, even when she’s still.
Oh my, the way she owns the silence,
It’s louder than any moan I’ve ever heard.
I want to dive into her fantasy,
Touching the corners of her mind like fingertips on poetry.
Every sigh is a lyric, every shift a bassline,
And I’m connected to the song of her being,
Her vibe got me reeling,
I am caught in a fantasy,
A place where time don’t ticks,
But is a melody of her breathing,
Singing softly in my ear,
The bed becomes our universe,
Where the stars are her curves
And I’m orbiting her gravity,
Drawn by the pull of her attraction.
I’m in love with her essence,
The way she turns the mundane into magic.
Even the shower ain’t just water and steam;
It’s a symphony of satisfaction,
Her silhouette dancing in droplets,
My happiness dripping with every second.
She’s the kind of woman who doesn’t just lay there,
She lays claim
To the air, to the moment,
To the very fabric of my being.
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