The Contour and Figure

 
She came to me in the middle of the night,  
Undressed and provoking me to no end,  
“Take me” she says in all her raw nature,  
“Take me and I will be your new best friend.”  
 
“Do with me what you will” she fervently says,  
“You can do anything, whatever you want,  
Do with me whichever way you please, but please!  
Use the right size and a really good font.”  
 
And as I gather my thoughts carefully,  
I prepare myself to fill her shape and form,  
My fingers then twitch a bit nervously,  
When I feel her ready heavy and warm.  
 
And she opens herself exasperated,  
Torrentially she flows right into me,  
And I like a poor soul drowning and poured,  
I swim in titillating mystery.  
 
“Give yourself in, it’s all you desire,  
Concentrate harder and finish me quick,”  
And I revel in the guilty pleasure,  
Looking closely for the words I want to pick.  
 
“Hurry” she tells me “you’ll find the right spot –  
Where everything touches and all will make sense,  
Don’t be so coy, so delve in and enjoy,  
Surrender completely and make it intense.”  
 
And my guilt wilts to a languid memory,  
Looking forward to giving her my all,  
And I play and I shape, I figuratively break,  
The confines and structures of her walls.  
 
She becomes my exclusive creation,  
From imagination to paper and pen,  
I give her life in these written stanzas,  
My thoughts come alive again and again.  
 
She smiles releasing me tender and sweet,  
“You did good tonight, you brought it all home”  
Then she appears in the verses and rhymes,  
In the contour and figure of this poem.