Imagine...
You're sitting at the bar with one of your good friends, at a poetry slam. Smoke, the booming pizzacato of the bass, and soul filled the air. As you were placing your order for another drink, you couldn't help but notice a man beside you whose gaze was fixed on you. He was sumptous, from his silky chocolate skin, to his long flowing locs falling down his back. "Hello, I'm Rayan and you are?" he said while reaching his hand out, while doing so he knocked over one of the drinks on the bar sending it all over you. "Oh, I'm sorry. Excuse me, Can I get some more napkins?" he shouted over to the bartender. "I'm sorry, I'll pay for that" he stated."It's fine really" you said, still trying to wipe the remains of the drink off of you. " No, really. I don't mind, by the way I still didn't catch your name." he chuckled. "It's Y/N" you stated, whilst shaking his hand.
As you two shook hands, the speaker on the microphone began to speak. "Hello, all my beautiful brothers and sisters, how are y'all doing tonight?" Everyone in the audience responded, "Alright, this next poet is not shy when it comes to speaking on the mic, so can I get a warm welcome for Rayan Lopez" the club erupted in snaps and claps. You turned to your left and right, to see that the man disappeared. You turned toward the stage to see him standing there, in all of his elegance. "Alright, how's everyone doing tonight?" Numerous voices responded back to him. "That's good, uhh this is a lil something I've been working on it's called "A Blues for Y/N" he spoke, while looking directly at you. Your friend looked over at you, smirking and laughing. He told the bass player, and the saxphone player to play a certain tune, he began to speak. The bass player began those heavy pizzacatos, and the saxaphone played lowly.
Say baby, can I be your slave
I've got to admit girl, you're the shit girl
And I'm diggin' you like a grave
Now do they call you daughter to the spinnin Pulsar?,
Or maybe Queen of 10,000 moons
Sister to the distant, yet risin' star
Is your name Yimmy-Ya?
Oh hell nah, it's got to be Oshun
Ooo, is that a smile me put on your face child
Wide as a field of Jasmine and Clover
Talk that talk honey, walk that walk money
Hound legs that'll spank Jehovah
Shit, who am I?
It's not important
But they call me Brother to the Night
And right now
I'm the blues in your left thigh
Tryin to become the funk in your right
Who am I?
I'll be whoever you say
But right now, I'm the sight raped hunter
Blindly pursuing you as my prey
And I just wanna give you injections, of sublime erections
