I got carried away, by his whispered displays of holding my mind’s attention, every motivated word that caressed my ears,
became a delicious captured intention.
I wanted to live inside the breaths he took, that spoke incredible desires,
I wanted to fire my assistant not detaining my heat, allowing his hands to be hired.
I was lost inside a magnificent tide of pride’s enabling,
he was the life guard that swept me off, into a kamikaze unwavering.
He carried me away from myself, that slept in my depth’s death,
and crept maliciously in step with my hopeful tongues,
inept unspoken dreams.
Harnessing my best seller qualities, the royalty inside me, that signified and engulfed this romantic Queen.
I must thank him,
for me getting carried away by his repoire, being swept away by his sexy uniqueness, that made me listen speechlessly, beseeching him more,
because for once, I got carried away in an escapade, and captured by his galore,
inviting his mere existence, as he knocked mystically at my door.
POETRY BY Tamara L Dorsey-Moore (Reblogged)
Copyright (c) 2017 Reserved purposes intended.
Thinker on the Loose