A fictional somewhat romantic poem expressing love simply as a feeling enjoyed without ownership.
As long as my arms
aren't physically involved,
mystery solved.
People are too physical,
love has to always involve
a physical act,
sex to be exact.
Sex is what screws
everthing up most of the time,
there are other romantic
adventures that should sublime.
I love Hummers,
but I own a Durango and Kia,
momma mia.
I love writing verse as a hob,
but it's not my job.
Loving someone doesn't
have to have an ownership tag,
to own a Hummer I'd need
quite a bit of cash in a bag.
Can't a person love a feeling,
even if it's romantically appealing?
Maybe they need to pay a price,
in a wedding they throw rice.
Crystal Reed thought she had met the perfect man. Instead she finds herself entangled in a web of obsessive love and dark secrets, a world that has become tainted by deception and treachery.
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