I could be wooed with words; I know I could.
I can’t think of a thing I could not forgive
If you wrote me a sonnet the way Will would...
If through words you would make me live.
If you were a master of metre and rhyme
I would be at your feet in a beat.
Make me dance to your song, make me keep your time,
Let your words be the drug that I need.
If you sang an elegy like Poe on my grave,
I believe I would die for you.
And whatever abuse and bad words you gave,
If you rhymed them, I’d love them, too.
Spread a blanket of blank verse over my eyes
It would cover what flaws I might otherwise see.
Make me love you with words and with tropes and with lies,
Turn my head, steal my heart,
Break my whole world apart,
If you do it with style, do what you want to me.
If you wooed me with words, and then chose me your muse,
I would kiss you whenever you need,
I would lave you in awe, I would let you abuse
Me and follow wherever you lead.
Let my kiss make your pen swell with poetry,
Let my touch make your ink flow in rivers.
And then give me reward for my alacrity,
Magic words sending down my spine shivers.
Woo me with words, and then make me your slave,
Feed me poison in words honey-sweet.
Make my chain out of verse, make of poems my grave,
I would be, helplessly, at your feet.