Sex and Poetry

I'm sitting at the bottom of the ski slopes at 2:00 a.m. with my two friends Orion and Mills. We're discussing the reasons behind my "life failure" with women as Orion so politely put it, and they decided that maybe it was the stark contrast in some of my thoughts on life and women. They joked that "sex and poetry," could sum up how I felt about women. Both fantastic parts of life and women for that matter, but apparently I need to work on creating a smoother blend between my poetic and animalistic nature. And so, I will do my best. Nonetheless, this poem aroused out of a jovial conversation, during a juvenile act, with two of my good friends. Thanks guys, for being so honest and cold (pun intended).

Sex and Poetry

Sex and poetry are two forms of love-making.
I can sex you up with words so sweet,
or perform those sexy words between the sheets.
Because sex and poetry are erotically breath-taking.

Sex with poetry evolves sex to the next stage.
Whisper sweet words while I commit to poetry-in-motion,
that intimate iambic-pentameter locomotion.
Sex with poetry give passion to that lustful crave.

Sex in poetry gives the romantically inclined a hit of ecstasy.
"Oh love, come hither between thy thighs,
and with thou sex bare true and true, for in bed thither is where our love forever lies."
Sex in poetry allows the ex to see the sex she's missing out on without thee.

Poetry in sex is to sexy express.
"Oh baby, make me burn like fire,"
to feel free to confess sex your deepest desire.
Poetry in sex is the Lovesmith test.

Poetry is sex without the physical touch, words reach deep to the soul.
Sex is poetry of unspoken words, a bond to make two parts whole.