Prisoner Of Passion 2

What are we really doing here
There’s no real love between us my dear
I was lost in the moment
And all my weaknesses you owned them
Picked them apart one by one
Then scattered them around the room
Laid on my chest and said that was fun
But when I rise to get back on my path
You find a way to hold me back
You play with my love of intellectual conversation
Only to draw me back into your tomb
A tangled web that I can’t help but be consumed
As soon as things clear its almost as if drug fumes fill the room
Then once again I welcome the warmth of you
The intimacy reminds me of someone old
But the blind passion of it all is something new
Not ashamed but not proud of what I’m doing here
But the secrecy of it all binds me from anyone I can talk to
I have all the freedom to go elsewhere
But your doorway is the one I walk through
What created this passion between us
And why am I a prisoner to

By: The Poet Q


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