Skintone embellished in black
Initial of his first name curved so strong
Facial structure carrying its own backbone
Every vein in his forearm describing his struggle
Shoulders equipped with knowledge and power and work ethic
Across his back branded is "I Belong"
When he walks its as if he's stepping because he's in a frat
Along with his every step my hips salsa into a dance routine like "Boom Boom Kack"
Aware of but not concerned with politics and presidential puppets
He tells me "God Is" and family is apart of his religion
When he says his grace
Palms are faced upward
Eyes are planted toward eternity
Intellectual guidelines and wisdom of how to manage life that his dad instilled in him
He shares with me
And I express to him everything about the absence of my father that I'm lacking
Uncertain of his actions I convert back to my shell
Before I get comfortable within the darkness, the loneliness, the insecurities
Again he's there
With bravado in his voice he declares me to remain his warrior queen
And to understand when he's mean
And to have his back if jobs he's in between
Because for my love he's the synonym of a fiend
The thought of patience
To him I wanna bring
My willingness to give
To nurture
He sees it in me
My truth
My light
He sees in me times three
Not only is he my best friend
And a fan of my poetry
He's C.E.O. of me
Explaining all of this as I remain planted Indian style in the pit of his chest
With his right hand over my left breast
Grasping my heart as it beats
I'm his solution for not converting back to the streets
We're musically connected to the E.Badu's, the Commons, the Floetry's, Talibs, Lauryns, the Roots
Despite controversial enigma's and divergence of opinions
With dirt in our closets; We plant our own roots
Together our existence is one of the most highs greatest inventions
I'm no longer concerned with the materialistic wedding ring
We grasp each others hands and we possess unity, arguments, nicknames, pain, stability
Willing to grow together
He bathes away my imperfections with Agape
Never will he say "I Couldn't"
The words "I Shouldn't" wouldn't follow with black eyes and bruises from five fingers balled into a fist
Sharing the rest of my life with him I could
Maybe I should
And I probably would
But "He Does Not Exist"
Initial of his first name curved so strong
Facial structure carrying its own backbone
Every vein in his forearm describing his struggle
Shoulders equipped with knowledge and power and work ethic
Across his back branded is "I Belong"
When he walks its as if he's stepping because he's in a frat
Along with his every step my hips salsa into a dance routine like "Boom Boom Kack"
Aware of but not concerned with politics and presidential puppets
He tells me "God Is" and family is apart of his religion
When he says his grace
Palms are faced upward
Eyes are planted toward eternity
Intellectual guidelines and wisdom of how to manage life that his dad instilled in him
He shares with me
And I express to him everything about the absence of my father that I'm lacking
Uncertain of his actions I convert back to my shell
Before I get comfortable within the darkness, the loneliness, the insecurities
Again he's there
With bravado in his voice he declares me to remain his warrior queen
And to understand when he's mean
And to have his back if jobs he's in between
Because for my love he's the synonym of a fiend
The thought of patience
To him I wanna bring
My willingness to give
To nurture
He sees it in me
My truth
My light
He sees in me times three
Not only is he my best friend
And a fan of my poetry
He's C.E.O. of me
Explaining all of this as I remain planted Indian style in the pit of his chest
With his right hand over my left breast
Grasping my heart as it beats
I'm his solution for not converting back to the streets
We're musically connected to the E.Badu's, the Commons, the Floetry's, Talibs, Lauryns, the Roots
Despite controversial enigma's and divergence of opinions
With dirt in our closets; We plant our own roots
Together our existence is one of the most highs greatest inventions
I'm no longer concerned with the materialistic wedding ring
We grasp each others hands and we possess unity, arguments, nicknames, pain, stability
Willing to grow together
He bathes away my imperfections with Agape
Never will he say "I Couldn't"
The words "I Shouldn't" wouldn't follow with black eyes and bruises from five fingers balled into a fist
Sharing the rest of my life with him I could
Maybe I should
And I probably would
But "He Does Not Exist"
-T. Vanderbilt
No comments:
Post a Comment