im sitting in the dark .
if someone told me that there was anyone else in the room ... could have fooled me .
ive been waiting for his set all night, trying to hear something that can make my thighs burn .
um . i mean my soul dance .
im entranced in his everyword like he's pulling my heart by the collar .yanking me while he alludes to the motherland and moves his back to connote strength . speaking softly then roughly, making me crunch and rebuild my self again and again .
im listening intently, just trying to pick something out of his mouth . something that will hold me over until the next time . time stands still while he speaks . hmm, time didnt even have the audacity to stay in the room while he spoke .
time knew what that moment meant to me, what that poem meant to me .
time was aware of what his voice did for my skin, sinking in like cocoa butter. he'd better stop .
be careful what you lust for i presume . he stops and his essence crawls out of the window like the lust i felt for him in the moment . he's an asshole and overbearing without his poetry. he's obnoxious when his melodic soulfood stops singing its servings . he's too loud & its apparent that his soul thirsts for the approval of everyone else in the room . poor thing . poor me. & i just wanna caress him and say softly in his ear,
"STFU" .
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