A poem about poetry

Generally speaking I despise any piece of written work that is about writing. Case in point that song by Natasha Bedingfield. But somehow this sprang to mind last night and I wrote it down and apart from that little bit yesterday I haven't posted any of my own work in months. So... opinions please - as brutal as you like:

When chaos explodes in mindless agony
Your pain reaches ecstacy in its extremity
Your love rips your breast open with its flaming passion
You pump the pain into the pleasure;
The pleasure into the pain
And like flint on flint they ignite for a heartbeat
For one brief moment the flame burns
Fuelled by the explosion of love and destruction
And at the centre you will find it
Upon those very lips
Where I have known lover's kisses
And your caustic words of rejection
There the river springs
There the nightingale's kiss falls
There my quill at last finds her parchment
My poem is born

by Bekaboo
13/08/05

There are a few bits that might change... it's not what I wrote last night to the letter - but then I'm pretty sure i didn't mean to write open with two ps Case in point: these lips or those lips? I meant these, wrote those and then thought actually that makes more sense so it's what i've put here. As a rule I never edit after a first draft... but this i might