The Magic Mind Blowing


He knew my turn ons,
cascaded expertly through his plot,
as he stroked and rubbed my ego, sensually,
but briefly,
walking right into
the gutter,
of my mind’s,
riske spots​.
Trapped inside the magic of his bedroom eyes,
as they held me,
in my stance,
squirming inside my own misty puddle,
as his pools,
sought opportunity,
in my saturating,
his chance.
A foreplayed sutra of minds’,
the limitless book of sutra’s wit, a broken time piece too mesh and lock spontaneities outlook.
A smile like sunshine,
during a hard rain,
as a reflective rainbow appeared
from seering heat,
mixing​ with tingles,
that roamed, untamed.
Lost inside his magic,
by story’s​,
he’s maybe,
repeated hundreds,
of times.
Watching intrigued,
by his gestures and movements,
aware of smokescreens,
that protected each rehearsed line.
As his eyes were breathtaking,
blue onyx,
with promise of a new Summer night’s sky,
a cooled sapphire,
a twinkle as diamonds,
sent too make the heart’s,
best friend cry.
I had too turn away,
from his gazed X-rayed vision,
before he saw my needs​,
as a rushed proposition.
I needed time inside his tragic magic, too familiarize him,
of my home,
too alleviate his mind,
of the basic levels, he’s known.
His excitement became tandem,
as my eyes,
locked on too a growing tent,
unconsciously licked lips, subliminally spoke volumes
of lacked,
orgasmic vents.
Wanting to listen forever,
too cradle, too feast on his words,
compelled too playout the rendevous,
as he phophetized my urge.

By Tamara Dorsey-Moore
Mature 18+
Thinker on the Loose
Copyright © 2017



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