The pen translates you so fine, so fair,
so fast, in a vast collage of tears you
have dropped, and the way you spell,
the way every letter is placed, writing
like yours is an ignition to feelings like
mine, you set me off, send me in the
direction your cursive moves, just an
entwining of heart, you are my cringe,
the reason why this piece of papercrumples.
Be with another,
it really doesn’t
matter, he’ll only
love you one way,through sex, may-
be foreplay, onlyby touch, thirst
and crave, he’s
not going to findanother motive to
love you further,
he’s blind to see,you’re
a sensation, a toy,
to him.To me though, I am
loving you by any
means, still finding
different ways to
adore you,and I’m not asking
for much,I am not asking for
you,getting to love you
without your
permission is just
another way.