To be Beyoncé…

To be Beyoncé,
a miracle it would be!
Be so to say
her
and wake up in
bright morning light,
with her perfect thighs,
like a goddess alike,
sexuality for sale. But
if her thighs were mine,
but they couldn’t hold
thee? Then to be
Beyoncé may not be all
to be! My thighs don’t cry
for perfection, they cry for
thee! To have and to hold,
to get that I would easily
give you a ring of gold.

 

 

 

 

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This entry was posted in dancing feet, inspiring music, inspiring picture, love poem, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, satire, sexuality and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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