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Pen
It was around 11pm, when she called to say she missed me, only for me to realize she only missed my swollen creativity sliding deep inside her imagination. She mentioned how I wrote poems inside her with my fingers the last time, and reminded me of how she screamed and ended with her soul on my lips. With all that I couldn't refuse this time, as I was forced to make love to her on paper and spilled ink like passion accross the sheets like holy water, and worshipped her skin like a born again believer. To my surprise, I also caressed her curves in every love letter, kissed up and down her thighs in short sentences and prose, and tasted all her innocence without a spoken word. I bit her lip so hard, and pulled her hair in between the lines and made her arch her back and scream...it only took a pen.
Published 1st Jun 2024
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likes 5
reading list entries 2
comments 3
reads 252
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
2nd Jun 2024 00:07am
Hey, welcome to DU. I love this piece, but it's more like an Instagram post -- blocky and narrative, doesn't structurally flow. You have everything here, just add some structure.
The opening line?! Fuck, that's brilliant. The entire metaphor is killer, and I really dig the concept and the execution.
Cool piece.
I'd recommend cropping this so that each line is a thought, no matter how short.
It was around 11pm,
when she called
to say she missed me,
only for me to realize
she only missed
my swollen creativity
sliding deep inside
her imagination.
She mentioned
how I wrote poems
inside her with my fingers
the last time,
and reminded me
of how she screamed
and ended
with her soul on my lips.
With all that
I couldn't refuse
this time,
as I was forced
to make love to her
on paper
and spilled ink
like passion
across the sheets
like holy water,
and worshipped her skin
like a born again believer.
To my surprise,
I also caressed
her curves
in every love letter,
kissed up and down
her thighs
in short sentences
and prose,
and tasted
all her innocence
without a spoken word.
I bit her lip so hard,
and pulled her hair
in between the lines
and made her
arch her back
and scream...
it only took a pen.
Again, just suggestions for form. The premise itself is tight.
The opening line?! Fuck, that's brilliant. The entire metaphor is killer, and I really dig the concept and the execution.
Cool piece.
I'd recommend cropping this so that each line is a thought, no matter how short.
It was around 11pm,
when she called
to say she missed me,
only for me to realize
she only missed
my swollen creativity
sliding deep inside
her imagination.
She mentioned
how I wrote poems
inside her with my fingers
the last time,
and reminded me
of how she screamed
and ended
with her soul on my lips.
With all that
I couldn't refuse
this time,
as I was forced
to make love to her
on paper
and spilled ink
like passion
across the sheets
like holy water,
and worshipped her skin
like a born again believer.
To my surprise,
I also caressed
her curves
in every love letter,
kissed up and down
her thighs
in short sentences
and prose,
and tasted
all her innocence
without a spoken word.
I bit her lip so hard,
and pulled her hair
in between the lines
and made her
arch her back
and scream...
it only took a pen.
Again, just suggestions for form. The premise itself is tight.
2nd Jun 2024 00:22am
2nd Jun 2024 3:18am
