When my legend’s still awake, romance partially satisfied , driven by active tremors, pending like a quake.
Where does all my carnal feeling’s return too or fit?
Absolutely doesn’t fit inside a marriage,
where it’ll unnecessarily, unnaturally,
collect dust on a monogamous shelf, tied down by a beautiful lie,
but uncomfortably sit.
As I watch it,
looking upon it’s freedom to express. Mmmm,
yea me, all married,
craving awkwardly, but very impressed.
Hopeful in rubbing its peacefully filled piece,
freely against me,
using only two digits going west,
to release my former mind-set, meditating my return as, ” the best” . Which is totally dysfunctional remaining tied in with sincere desire, off the market,
as love becomes an abstinence,
taunted, by temptation’s lustful targets .
Poetry By Tamara Dorsey-Moore
Thinker on the Loose-Reblog
Copyright (c) 2017 Reserved purposes intended.