all i got is poetry
she always listens and
if she had a physical form
she would get unlimited kisses.i would make love to her, all in the kitchen.
she deserves every piece of me,
all my attention.
she doesn't complain about my forlorn disposition.she encourages me when i feel like ventin'.
and if i was too depressed she became uplifting.
she was always there.
i might be finally in love,
i express myself to her & her
embrace is warm as a hug.when we took a break she was
ready and willin to pick things
back up with a nigga,
she always saw my vision and helped paint the picture.she never got jealous of the girls i told her about, she knew my infatuation would boil down into doubt.
and she loved the stories about my lustful encounters, like the time explained how i fucked in the shower.she never lied and assured me
that no one could do her better than i.
i don't know anyone who made
me feel this way for as long.
whenever i'm alone i fall into
the echoes of her call.