She Is Balancing On the Edge of Something
She accidentally unleashed her pleasurable inner real
It pranced out from the belt at her throat
Traveled to the edge of her somber aura
Showed itself to be intuitive and wise
She watched carefully, mirroring her inner real
Fixing things in the reflection of sometimes
A haughty aloof reaction that sallied forth in precision
Leaving her empathetic aura wondering about her sanity
No one notices that she is balancing on an edge of something
she is too pretty to try for, so most men avert their eyes downward
looking for dumpier specimens with fat necks like their mothers
Giving her freedom to study her other selves.
There is a grayscale feeling about her today
Her inner real feels dangerous and provocative,
not unlike a fast-talking, over-confident detective from the forties
Her male side comes out and leads her inner real back into her throat.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2021
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