Sex is poetic.
From the beginning to the end.
From the first touch until you're immersed in a slow grind.
Pounding of the thighs, your senses alive.
You can't wait for her to articulate the last line.
Ladies you know what a mean.
When your body craves and you're open.
You know it's gonna be the shit but you still hoping...
From the moment you kiss that it feels golden.
Sex is purely poetic, erotic.
Mind bending, bodies blending.
Yeah… so into you I'm not pretending.
All the reasoning in the world tells you when it good it just is.
Excited by the sounds of your ladies soft moans and parted lips
Like when that pen hits the paper and the shit just flows.
The greatest high when her hands tells you it's time to go down low.
Dancing with words that tells you just how it feels and taste.
A sigh let you know when it’s time to go deeper and pick up the pace.
Sex is poetic and rhythmic.
Souls speak, mounting desire leaps.
You cry out each time she makes your body speak.
Can I reverse the verse, poetic is sex.
Got you speaking in verbs, a whole new dialect.
Taken on a whole new ride when physically fucked with words.
Anything but her pussy gleaming from your lips would be absurd.