Last night I made love to poetry in a dim moonlit setting that was unrehearsed, smooth was her Poise and her verse which hastily began to start of this poetic intercourse she stroked me with her thought of improper pronouns,that led to the use of unusual nouns, with the thought of what kind of metaphorical juices that would be found. Sweet with the innocence of a Doctor Seuss book, she opened up for onomatopoeia so that I could take a look, where to conjugate my verbal prefixes and punctuations in a literal sense, this meeting might have been shorter than a Richard Wright book but this "Black Boy" was not known for being short and this love making will continue like a bad run-on. As an outline the paragraph I see the sentence begin to lose formation so I start to surround them with baby oil quotations to keep sentence on the right track,because we wouldn't want this to lead to premature ejaculation.My Embrace of her full content could'nt have been perceived by any other thought of meaning,but if you knew how tight the verses were that I made love to you would be like Terry Mac "Waiting to Exhale" I mean hard breathing.This was a love making ecstasy that only my words could explain cuz when I think about the poetry that I made love to last night,I get twisted and I need another brain. If you could experience the poetry I made love to last night you would be like boy you never lied.These versus have I showed you will have you calling your friends like Ilanya Vandzandt and"Yesterday I Cried" .
© Andrais Delacruz