[ 6. 27. 15 ]
empty brown eyes
rich mocha thighs
(does her dress show too much,
or does it show enough?)
body built suited to your liking,
you like it,
and that feeling she gives, you won't fight it,
why won't she swing them hips your way,
give you the time of day
tonight
cuz she might
offer sweet, sticky relief
in your moment of heat
let's say she does; will you
make it your place
to ask how many's inhabited her space
or will you get lost in her feel,
oh god, is she real?
when she's laying there, your cue is her snore
you're looking for the smoothest way out the door
she asks what's the ruckus,
you snap, "the fuck is
up with y'all bitches tryna make a nigga stay
all i needed was some play, okay?
now lemme fuckin' go,
you nothin' but a hoe."
with that, you're out the door;
riddle me this, was she a whore
when you had lust in your bones,
when you felt like a man because of an earful of moans?
tell me if she was in the same box as whores
when moments ago, physically, she was all yours?
on the taxi back home
let your mind roam
to the times right before
she was only a whore
she was this, she was that
she was queen with skin so black
and an ass so fat
indeed, she was somebody
until she was nothing to you,
nothing but a pretty pink pussy for use,
but what's up with you?
your hands brushed her skin
you, too, are guilty of sin
you've discarded her to feel like a man
The Man making you a lesser being is where this began
still, that doesn't excuse you;
the deed takes two, you are a whore too
since you're the main one playing games
you're a whore too, if we're gonna call names.
