poetry

Open Book

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My life’s an open book,
just reaching out to be read,
walking past it, flips the pages,
to my mind’s opened lair.
Impossible, to consume few words, to summarize it’s depth,
as nudely baring all,
takes the lead too
buried treasures kept.
Calling out to open minds,
to inhale it’s ambrosia.
An aphrodisiac,
that sensually,
reaches out and holds you.
No displays of fabled lies,
only truth’s sweetest,
chocolate essence,
captured,
in a sunset’s eyes.
The ambiance is set,
to read by candle light.
Offering delightful assistance toward the minds’ round trip flight.
To, not just be read in silence,
but whispered word for word.
No absence of nostalgia,
for it arouses you to splurge.
As sultry lips never stumble once, mumbling words that come alive.
Triggering,
all desires,
the body has inside.
Word’s strike each nerve,
to it’s fulfilling end.
Becoming an addictive tool,
in which you come to depend.
So mesmerizing,
when you lay it down,
it inadvertently,
calls out to you,
seductively,
opening wide,
allowing,
a peek or two.
Not long after,
comes satisfaction’s grin,
from all the winding skills.
As each line captivates,
making your mind and body,
wear chills.
Going on to the next chapter,
as time’s keeper,
is,
no longer expertise.
Holding on to every word,
as it brings you to your knees.
Gripping you abruptly,
as you realize,
your mind can’t be released.
For I write of quality,
for the mind‘s pleasure,
and 100% willingly,
I aim too please.

Poetry By,Tamara Moore
Thinker on the loose
Poetry of emotion~
Copyright (c)

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