Marcellus Davis Jr
For a schoolboy at the record hop,
downing spike Kool-Aid, my eyes
do booty study’s, belly rubbing
to James Brown, scrunching
hips dip ‘til that tight skirt split!
You, smile at my gymnastic physique
long, dark, thick, buffed. I chose
to taste your full lip grace, Angel
I owe you to myself, lust flows
through the marrow, of my conk!
You know I want your fine ass, don’t you?
At fifteen I boast, hard as ready to bust
you nineteen took me up
in that nude rooms equation,
the sum of our chemistry