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There are times I look at you and it’s like a beautiful hurricane.
I feel excitement, awe, fear, calm and wonderment. I’m taken aback yet propelled forward and see us growing old together. I question God and thank him at the same time…
Then you simply smile at me
and think to myself “Does this Nubian Queen not know what she does to me?”
And I guess that’s what makes you so amazing; you have no idea.
Intimacy is like a balanced meal. It is food for the body of your love. However, be wary, that too much of one type of intimacy can lead to intimacy malnutrition. Feast on all types to ensure your love is properly nourished.
Understand that you can treat your partner like a King/Queen.
But if they don’t see you as their opposite equal you’re simply a servant.
humidity | dew | moisture | mist | precipitation | rain | cloudburst | condensation | drizzle | hail | rain | sleet | drizzle | liquid … all these I feel on my tongue when I taste you. All these things are arid compared to you.
Taste the wetness of your linguistics
Feel the smooth dialogue
of your dew on my tongue
Slurp on the precipitation
of your vocabulary
Slide my tongue between
the folds of your phonics
Envelope the clit of your
syntax and soft suck on it
I want to French kiss
the entrance of your grammar
Long lick back and forth, up and down
cross the lips of your sentences
Feel the humidity of your mist fill my mouth,
become drizzle that trickles down my chin.
So we can converse in a new wet language