I can clearly taste

the exact places you’ve been,

because in my eyes,

unlike all the rest

those traveled places

become the cherished little gifts.

Stripped for me

you stand in your place

ready to let me feed

your wrist, the first offering.

I trace until your eyes fall backwards

and in this nothingness

of a thankful holiday

those seated closely around the table

have no true idea

the secrets you keep.

That very best side of you

hides and shields the dark,

that blessed side in you

no one wants to admit,

I swear it’s your glamour guide

that gets whatever she wants.

The precious spoiled child

forever and always

getting everything

perfectly content and happy

for just a while at least.

I’m the one buying mirrors

to feed your narcissistic side

properly pampered and nourished

you and your insatiable diet.

After all, your best outfits

come alive, when all the all the eyes

want a piece of you.

Temptations drug

to have the words of a poet

inched up super close

whispering the exact commands

to be followed.

My pretty companion,

only One needs to understand

the code written in here.

Kneel and decipher please

these thoughtful messages

spread out all over

Dragonfly Poetry.

2 Replies to “The Poetry Speaks”

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