Promiscuous Poetess

CATEGORY

just different

Forgive me for I have sinned,
yet no remorse does my
conscience concede.
A promiscuous whore...
a slut of the pen.
A nympho of words
fiending for inspiration to fondle
my thoughts
and manipulate my mind
until a perpetual stream
of proficient verses flow from
the confines of my sanity.
They enter me.
I crave words to
enter me fully,
penetrating my orifice with
their erect venacular shafts,
stroking my intellect
with subtle vigor
until lines...c(o)um(e).
I swallow whole,
acidic jargon wrapped
in pastry filled with
shards of broken
glass, causing me to spit
sweet, bitter, and
cutting rimes.
Though gratified,
satisfaction cannot be
attained by a paramour
with such a voracious
appetite for poetic perfection.
So I solicit myself
to tricks of the trade,
words to release me from
a tongue suppressed by
censored verbal freedom
into a realm of
infinite climactic expression.
I am a poetess
of promiscuity
giving myself
again and again to
the art of
spilling integral ink on
beds of pages until
the tip of my wet pen
drips dry.