(Remember those cute love letters that you used to get, that boy that liked you so much that he couldn't help but smile and stutter whenever he spoke to you?
how lucky am i to be that girl that gets to be crushed on so sweetly and even get a poem written about me.)
Ayanda Dolce.
She had the kind of confidence to be mistaken for arrogance,
The dimples on her cheeks had me running out of compliments and just by lending an ear to her, I could tell that her mind had travelled continents.
The contours on her curves could tell stories on the footprints of old undiscovered jewels and I had planned to tap into this secret chest that holds her gold and maybe, just maybe get a taste of her honey...
She is so mystically furnished; her lips are a symbol of fine art... I mean when she speaks!
I hear music.....
Her legs are the epitome of fine architecture..... I mean when she walks...
I see equanimity....
The mysticism of the way her buns take turns in that slow... vertical movement is so.... hypnotic it could almost put you in a Trans.....ha ha ha......
I’m speaking of an African goddess, a Princess who's soul is as original as the melanin that caresses her skin to whom my heart is so attached.
You see you are the perfect catch but it’s funny how the perfect catch always belongs to someone else and it’s a shame we couldn’t ignite this flame because we were the perfect match.
Only you and I know that our story will never end but this is as far as these words could tell.....
By: Tiego Sibitiela
Comments
Post a Comment