They both feel loved and are bursting with great things, but the excitement goes down when he leaves. What's deadly is not dying to your flesh every time it wants to jump away from God and count to 3.
1. It wants to know about the D that described love and sex so similarly they sound the same when they're written about.
2. A flesh that isn't too quick to dance in distress, but will dance in this dress for one guy or two or
3. This is the same flesh he destroys, but beat me into loving her unconditionally because his last bitch wasn't a damn thing like me-- she wasn't secure.
Didn't approach the throne meekly, was bold and rambunctious in her approach. Wasn't much Lord in her talk much like when he was absent in my undressing at the park.
Flesh clashed with skin and formed goose bumps on my inner thighs, everything but my eyes he held with pride. Never knew what life I spoke about in my blink- never cared to see I was crying at night.
He asked me to open up, so I parted my legs and spread the word all over his alter... That isn't Exactly what he meant, but that's what all the other dudes wanted. That's what I get for thinking he was just another Nigga. #LateNightPoetry
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