Tittle tattle tongues always awash in inquisition
Is it their once meek failings?
Or loves lost labour's that spurn them to seek entanglement in my life?
Hard it must be for them to assume and presume, never knowing yet thriving upon Septic thoughts.
They may see in me something I cannot?
Or see in you something they cannot have, or lost.
For what I see is not their folly or presumption.
It is my fantasy alone and if truth be known more languid in debauchery than they could ever picture or imagine.
For my solace in my words not their deeds.
Although one follows the other, it is not compulsory nor is it always desired.
For the thoughts of slow driving ******* of the spirit is mine alone.
My thought
My words
My imagery
Her responses
Are my imagination
I seldom see these interlopers or speak to them.
I ask not to be judged as a peer, nor accepted as an equal.
I mostly despise their counsel in any way
The saving grace is the inability to read my thoughts or know of my works.
In that I deny them a world of emotion and pleasure they are not worthy of.