If I Had No Pen But a Penis to Write You With

If I had no pen but a penis to write you with,
No writing tablet but the walls of your inner womanhood,
I would still want to write love poetry to you,
Woman of my dreams, Goddess of my heavenly imagining.
In place of ink I would use my sperm, my seed.
It would be a sonnet of sex, an ode of orgasm.

And after it was over and I got some rest,
There's nothing I'd rather do
Than to add another verse or two.
Editing and re-editing,
Proof-reading our ballad
Until we got it right,
We could spend our whole lives
Writing sweet poetry together -
All of it done without our getting out of bed.