Making love to you is a butterfly
coming out the cacoon over and over again, every time I go in (lol) I come out
different , just a little more beautiful … a little more excitedly grateful fulfilled
and because you reflect me a little “ eye filled like life’s skilled or was tongue just skilledd doesnt matter it was real(who said that lol)” my
tongue wants to say something but lungz are stifled . We on some Queen sheeba
and Solomon not some Samson and Delilah,
it will be a cold day in hell when I look out into the world and say I don’t
desire 50 years plus I lick my lips at
you with that fire . Sometime kissing you is like genius thoughts caught on paper,
the world don’t understand what was written then (our love) only the genius the
paper and the pen and we do it all over again
and then ...
(Sound of scribbling)
Dear
modern man you might see me as an anomaly, I would rather have her around the
attractions not because her ass is round (but it is see it from the front), lip
licking, eye contact anticipated laughter, deep cuddles for days that gets me aroused
, so I guess I don’t fit into your little boys club we eagles that play equals
no ego’s that games for your and the proud.
She
is my flynes that’s why I call her maverick, and the moment she close and
leaves our house I feel home sick, no tricks
no need for the Netflix just that old school forever until grow old
magic. She doesn’t need but it but if she wants it I tell her my lips are all of kinds shades if you want lip stick, she is heart stopper i am a back breaker, she is a house maker i am her soul taker, you couldn't put a price on it but we both stack that paper
No comments:
Post a Comment