"No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart." - F. Scott Fitzgerald
Their date was at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe in the lower east side of Manhattan. She was excited because she's been a regular there since her college days and appreciated the art of poetry––– connecting to people through their words with their stories. Robyn wasn't a poet herself but was encouraged to write whenever she couldn't find what she wanted to say, specifically about her relationship with her father, and her love life. Tonight she had something special dedicated to Chris unbeknownst to him.
The host of the Open Mic Monday's Sol walked to the stage, and the room erupted with clapping and catcalling. "How's everybody doing tonight?"
The crowd responded excitedly cheers coming from all over the room. "Well, that's wonderful. Coming to the stage this woman is someone that we all know and love. We've had the privilege of seeing her perform a couple times and now she's back to grace us again. She's like family here to us. Y'all know her as the superstar Rihanna, we know her as the sweet and humble Robyn. Please give her a warm welcome."
Chris raised his eyebrows and felt Robyn's touch before she went up to the stage. "Nuyorican! How we doin' tonight?" Everyone along with Chris was excited to hear what she had to say. When he decided to bring her here, he never expected a performance from her but he would be all ears, he just wished his eyes could be blessed just the same.
"I ave somethin' special I wanna do tonight. My cover of one of my favorite songs of all time. I hope y'all like it."
"Every second, every minute Girl, I swear that he can get it Say if you a real nigga, put your hands up high Hands up high, hands up high Tell 'em dim the lights down right now put me in the mood I'm talkin' bout dark room, perfume"
The lights dimmed to a rose red, with several spotlights swirling in the background, and the live band playing the instrumental. The brassy, warm, and rich overtone sound of the sinuous alto saxophone and deep bass of the drums fusing harmoniously for a beautiful sonic composition that suited the silvery tone of her voice.
"I must say your feather-like touches leave me warm and slightly blushing Uh, the imprints you left on my skin have me revved up for rendezvous' based on the art of seduction Like poetic justice, poetic justice If I told you that love drips from the roots of forbidden fruit would you want me? I mean, I bleed my heart out in this poem dedicated to you and I'm in the mood for intimacy, lust laced within my pen Can we have a deep conversation? In love, what do you want? For it to feed your soul what do you need? For sexual interests would you rather penetrate me knee deep or sip from the nectar of my sex to satisfy us both and fulfill your greed Cursing your name on quiet late nights to me whispering it on the eve of early mornings Or do you just wanna make love? Do you just wanna feel? Don't be scared because the connection is real Don't walk away 'cause they say communication is the key, I can tell but I never would have known unless I knew my love for you was real, P.S."
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