Intro: This is part of a real conversation (tweaked a bit for meter and rhyming purposes) between the two peotic souls who own/manage this blog. 

My pen hasn’t bled in a while, said I

Remember how it never used to go dry?

My nib would constantly pierce out of my bosom

Spilling ink onto page, bleeding with good reason

You ARE poetry and so will it remain thus

This love so strong, it takes the words from us

But the poetry always remains, my beloved

For, in your bosom lies the fountainhead

But I’m all out of poetry now, blunt are my paper swords

Unspeakable love I feel, I am so lost for words

Help me, dear Muse, all the inspiration your love begets 

Squeeze me and wring out of me the last dregs

Rather would I fill you, darling muse, with my essence

Until poetry flows from your seams in every sense

We can then taste the intensity on each other’s cheeks 

Unspeakable love, as we let our tears flow and speak

As our love continues to unfold

Sometimes quiet, sometimes bold  

We shall pick up the sentiments along the way

turn those into poetry every night and each day

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