Brown maple sugar,
Cinnamon toast complexion.
Hershey chocolate chip.
Carmel Hazel brown eyes,
Red sugarcane lips.
Your curvy curvaceous thighs.
With enough melanin color blended so perfectly together, bronzing the brownish shade of your muscles.
Natural ethnic hair.
Thick, coarse or silky.
It is perfectly acceptable by me.
***** so big it needs to have its own legs to stand on.
Your blackness is ****.
And it **** sure is beatiful.

Wandering

not lost because only those
who choose to be lost
are the ones who feel most free.

Wondering

not found because those who
find themselves stranded on mountains

peaks that steep with cliffs
so brief they threaten to
collapse the body with snow.

But dirt tends to cling
to those who dare
themselves to fall
hitting pine trees
and mulberry bushes
hearing buzzing bees
and small white thrushes.

There was a buzzing, woke me from my bed,
(in the place between my ears)
calling me to a place where I'm not alone.
Dreams are fantastic in lovers arms instead,
especially when you've been lonely on your own.

Faint, just a whisper, forgotten;
clumsily on the edge of infinity,
ready to drop into a pool of what's rotten,
you're lost in sweet serenity.

Blissfully alive.
                  But where is your buzzing?
                                                   Where is your soul?

Surely you would have noticed
the subtle silence of a mausoleum,
the clattered bones of yesterday
only scatter when ya see em.

And I'm too 'fraid to 'pollogize for my mistakes,
misdeeds and mistreating you.
I've seen the floor that you whip me with,
and its not worth meeting too.

So I've decided to surrender
                         to that sweet sweet serenity.

I've decided to surrender to that sweet serenity,
running on dreams, standing alone
on a crowded sea of enmity. (I just don't care anymore!)
Its time to sleep. its time to open this door and find myself home.

All the Presidents' mien,
Do they say a word they mean?
Like the leaders in Australia,
Who in Parliament is not a failure?
Like the Presidents' mien,
Do old men ever say a word they mean?

"I didn't feel ready,"
She uttered, holding steady
To a coffee cup with a lipstick stain
That she rubbed off on another train
With hair disheveled and eyes aglow
She recounts times when she said "no"
To boys and men that crawled their way
Into her bed some other day
She laughs with pride
And steps outside
Grasping her girlfriend's hand.

Love me as much as a supermodel
At least as much as the Super Bowl
As much as a tax-free bonus
A royal flush with an ace in the hole.
Love me as much as keg beer,
On a vacation in the tropics;
As much as a Lamborghini.
Or any other guy topics.

Love me as much as pinups
Of mammalian girls on cars.
Love me as much as running backs
And other famous sports stars.
Love me as much as sleeping late
And breakfast in your bed.
Forget about big busted babes
And love just me instead.

Love me more than blue jeans
And excessive highway speed.
Love me more than days off
Home-made beers and ****.
Love me more than basketball