This man was just taking chances with Will Smith. Like, really: Will Smith is an old man.
Drums, bass, strings, snare.
Drums, bass, strings, snare.
The atmosphere is clouded by the thick smoke
begotten by the heavy lungs that don’t choke-
Your smile pokes.
Drums.
The feelin of Al Green resides on me.
The seemingly potent green’s inside of me.
We simply fishin for sacred gifts never seen.
Your eyes blow my mind even with shades in between.
The scene brings a serene feelin’
As the drums drum and echo as if there was a ceilin
Our thumbs lead the path for our hands to break fast of the recent months never had.
But always wanted.
Bass.
The percussion of my heart against yours opens doors to inner flaws deeper than the core’s floors
It rains, it pours.
You’re wet and I’m all yours.
Strings.
Push pull your movement is
As I write this my jealousy is
Unforgotten as you write bout other lips
You kissed.
I missed.
Snare.
Rhythmic our bodies were
As we slurred into this blurred reality we founded inside of we.
We were:
Captivated by what our hearts had manifested.
You are: forever blessed, petite breasted with climaxes I’ve never tested.
I missed.
Drums, bass, strings, snare.
Wishin that you were fishin for the love we once had but now is missin.
We shared.
Laughs and champagne glasses
Exploring exotic romances
We faired.
Even to each others hearts
Cupid’s dart shot right at my heart and pressed start.
When I saw you.
Drums, bass, strings, snare.
… There.
Damian Marley’s dreads are just so insane.
