It’s natural and yet I am told I think too much about it
Is it my weakness that my thoughts are drawn so to the ******?
Is it a sin that when I reflect on the fire ignited between our skins
my hips’ response is immediately so hypnotic
I tried to wash this burn from my body like a constipate would take a colonic
But I have resigned there’s not much that I can do about it
**** logic
I’ve already studied the ****** in your hips-- finding its reciprocal is my latest project
And will never forget to kick you down some Real Knowledge
Forever your Queen therefore my virtue remains solid
There is not another who dare lay finger pon it
Resigned to keep the reflection of my dejection so flawless
The dances done alone with two digits are so harmless
This used to subdue the need there always, regardless
But no one listens to a Woman, just trying to be Honest