Must I tell you about her locs,
That dance with the rhythm of her hips,
Watching their twist, and turn – a testament
To the tangled thoughts in every strand, a reflection
Of the tender care she donates upon her hair.

And would I love to keep a lock, and key
To her locs, being a LONG story in itself—
Free, vibrant, and unapologetically bold
The sunlight catches the rich hues of her hair;
Tales of her heritage, struggles, and her triumphs.

I swear, I promise; I must say...
Her locs are the echoes of the laughter
And tears that have shaped her journey.

This that "cause you said that , now I'm not speaking to you",
This that "you took too long to reply so I'm done with you".
This that "you ain't **** getting her pregnant rodney",
This that "oh now you don't remember me? Then *******!",

Where did we go so wrong with communicating?
These apps are not stimulating no more,
Its just irritating,
I get like 2 matches a day and still nobody said ****?
Waste of time isn't it?
Time to set boundaries and benefits,
At this rate , I just want friends,
Why can't loneliness end?
at least don't pretend saying what was really meant,
Its not rocket science looking within someone's soul,
But if their heart is blacker than black and milds , then I'm gone,
If I call you a ***** on this phone , then I would be wrong,
Right?
Don't call me when you and ya' hubby get into a , fight,
We all got problems that need to be solved increasing the rates of cheating and brawls,
You wanna be him, she wanna be her,
Y'all know y'all both can't have it all,
On the internet looking like fine ****,
But Whats fine **** to the spiritual,
Iykyk we ain't liberals,
Time to build our people up in general.

She is that flower in pinkish-red hems
Blooming amidst the silent, withered stems;
She does not need any grace of water,
But pleased to tears that have fallen over

My hand trembles, I cannot pluck her roots—
She's too precious to be in worn-out boots;
Though it hurts, I'll hope there's a gardener
Who'll place her where light shines a bit kinder.

You, you're my one and only,
Without you I'd be a little lonely.
Nope I lied,
If I were to lose you,
I'd lose myself and they'd have to gather tools to fix my heart.
And while the ocean is wide,
I need you to be my bright side.
In fact it's starting to seem that you're the ink in my pen,
Your tears of sadness and joy.
Staring into your eyes,
I freeze like a toy.
I'm just a boy,
And you're my classroom crush.

The day you called me by her name,
Fear took root in my heart—
A quiet dread of losing us,
Of love slipping into shadows.

Enthralling – the vanished fragrances; my olfactory senses
are akin to a daisy, each petal plucked accompanied by
a murmur of “if she loves me, loves me not”

Her scent – sends sparks of shivers through me;
a fragrance bold enough to fill the space, gentle
not to drop it all.

My dear, is that very scent that ensnared my heart.