A Writer

When I met him he told me he was a writer

And smiled at me so bright

He cancelled out the moon and stars

I considered the idea that, he might be my sun…life…beginning



When he told me he wanted to fuck me with his pen

And looked at me as though

He could see my soul

I thought to myself, I’ve met my complement…match…equal



When his pen met my flesh

And tugged at me ever so gently with each word

He brought me forth with each stroke

I whispered quietly, I’ve been reborn…renewed…revived



When I thought that it might end

And this chapter would be closed

He said I cured his writer’s block

I pledged in my heart, I’d be muse…inspiration…passion



When his words turned into sentences

And there seemed only beginnings

He said I deserved to be his 1st novel

I screamed out loud, I’ve met my creator…originator…author



Inspired By:  Sadomasochistic Soliloquy (I Fucked Her With My Pen)


5 thoughts on “A Writer

    • Hi Joy. Thank you for taking the time to comment. It is greatly appreciated. I wanted it to be more passion than erotica so that was the feeling I was going for.

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