tacit understanding...

he bathes my wanton senses
with the power of his intensity
so addictive...so nourishing
it's become a part of me
the way he pins me to the weight of my convictions
holding me accountable
to my own beliefs & needs
asking little...knowing he'll gain plenty
every time he spreads me
nude & flagrantly exposed
open to his scorching gaze
confident I'll never look away
as he presses the point of his intent
into my waiting greed
braced on the strength of his certainty
I can & will always do better
lapping at my avidity
drenching himself in the pearls of my succulence
delighting in the desperate writhing of my spine
as I saturate sheets with sensual ink
a mere taste of the flood yet to come
agitated by the storm of his words
a maelstron unrelenting
enticing & exciting
with his thickened throbbing verse
knowing my addiction
to his skill...his passion...his diction
...our memorabilia
he lights my blaze & then fans the flames
arrogantly using my poesegraphilia
not against me...never that...
but to our mutual pleasure
rhythmically rocking me
hard onto his eager hunger
challenging us both
savoring every syllable inspired by his endeavors
collecting all my gasps & exhaltions
still pushing for more
he demands & I deliver
{it isn't in me to disappoint}
when the tide of his pressure
sends me tumbling over
...lost in the falls
I rain poetry
upon his waiting tongue...