No Poetry Is Poetic But You Poem by Hossain Shohag

No poetry is poetic but you— my love,
Upon your skin, my verses I start to write—
You lie beneath, and I am on you, above,
Ink flows from heart to body, dark and bright.

Your body curves like letters in a book,
As pages turn, we both thus align—
Your silence speaks as deeply as my look,
Each stroke I carve, more than words can define.

The script of soul and flesh begins to blend,
A story told in shadows, fire, and light—
No page can hold the depths where we descend,
Our bodies write what words could never quite.

Oh poet, foolish poet, who never knew—
Nowhere, there's so much poetry in you.