Boy
that syrupy
hush bedroom talk that keeps my earlobes tingling
Yet
my dignity
this jaw tight locked hardheadedness
Wont
allow me to open my mouth and say what it is
That
would you mind me peeking through your brain
Trace
the beginning of morning whiskers on your lower lip
Hanging
dews of words bringing sweet distress to the insides of my wrists
Longing
to stroke my long black locks leaving you at the end of your wits
Round
we go to tighten or loosen this mutual enticement
Atlast
break loose these pent up impediments
Only
to step back
smile
and keep groovin on this lonesome trip
Nubian(Q) 