Speak the language we only speak,
The fire of a writer,
Leaves me weak.
Flames of passion which I crave
Electric shocks of seduction,
Absorbed into lyrical waves.
A masterpiece or a work of art,
It’s the imaginative way,
You draw in my heart.
Pulling me into every emotion,
Writing me into pages,
That hold the depths of oceans.
The way your ink draws me in,
It’s like a magnetic pull,
Gliding across my skin.
Let your ink flow free,
I’ll be your blank canvas,
Write your creativity upon me.
K
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Thank you x
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This was such a beautiful tribute to the power of writing! Well-written work really tugs the reader’s heartstrings. 🙂
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Thank you, your feedback is much appreciated
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