My heart envisions what my eyes refuse to see. ~Poet Walter J Wojtanik
There in the dark, faces illuminated by candlelight,
There, passion scurries behinds the closed door,
held in tight clenches naked and hiding under
the cover of fantasy. But this love lacks a root,
it is in their minds that this lust has been given birth.
No sense of self-worth for imaginary lovers.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik 2013
Written for THE SUNDAY WHIRL – Wordle #96
My heart envisions what my eyes refuse to see. ~Poet Walter J Wojtanik
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From my muse to your eyes.
THROUGH THE EYES OF A POET'S HEART 
Real or imaginary… all you need is love…
Under the cover of fantasy. Lots of loves like that, I think.
Imagination can do all kinds of things… Nicely put!
Yes… the imagination can run wild, at times…
Sad that love cannot be bought as it is a priceless commodity.
Yep. The fantasy of being in love when actually you’re not.
I like this, Walt, and am in agreement. For me sex must be rooted in love. Well penned!