Read me, my dear instransigent darling

Read me, my dear instransigent darling,
My erotic need, literarily
Is, on almost every weekday morning
(And sometimes weekends) met and it cheers me
And tantilizes me, swells me with pride
To think I am in mind if not in heart.
You who I love - onced loved - and deified
As the well-worshipped Muse of all my art.
If you're ever tempted by transigence
Or cursed by a sudden conscience-spasm
And you ended this eternal silence
I believe I might have an orgasm.
And what if you touched me, what would I say?
Nothing at all, I'd just faint dead away.

Literarily is actually a word - to my surprise.