He inquired about her Fantasy, her head dropped, from how heavy they were, and then she spoke volume’s as she looked back up and said, but a few, for she had many inside, stating from importance, off the top of her head, the one’s she really knew.
“My Fantasy is for rainbow’s to mesh, so I can see the vividness of they’re colors boldly outstretched”, “without being under scrutiny as we undress, free to express the carnal images, we’ve so long requested.”
“The height of your might as it enters my night’s pie, in a fight to enter its tightened cry, letting go as our flight ends inside, concealed, away from the voyeuristic focus of watchful, disapproved eye’s.”
“As the nakedness of our minds, passes Go”, for nothing inside would remain on hold.”
“Then to reach inside the heart’s that held outdated anger, replacing they’re strings with an endangered–logic, that manifests within its reliance.
To know a world vunerable and naked without any editting, and–without meddling of governed scientist, who only feed us a fake life, to live in and pretend.”
“As greedy wishes become fantasy more truthful in the end.
My Fantasy is a life born without curses, as every step taken would,
be from a love song’s favorite verses.”
” For my voice to freely be a form of power, and my sorrows to be extinct, as rainshowers turn the sky, a brilliant yellowish pink.
For the fulfillment of Fantasies, that taste good inside my heart, filling my soul’s appetite, as the sharpness of my mind shines extremely bright.
My purpose to Love, would reach throughout Nation’s.
As my heart would see fit to love,
whichever direction satisfied its string’s and lead to undying peace, and rescued patience.
Poetry By Tamara Moore
Copyright Reserved for intended audiences.Reblog
Thinker on the Loose