She is from the Abyssinian Empire
where the sun toasts the skin
miles, deserts, oceans away
...
I see her and I'm not impressed.
With melons in her blouse,
mascara on thick,
she fools no one.
...
She is flying like a balloon
playing in the heavens,
prancing in the clouds,
and around the moon.
...
A feeling that is unavoidable
like hitting traffic at rush hour
or doing the taxes on April 14th.
A feeling that can consume the body
...
I will say I'm sorry
when the sun begins to grin,
when the clouds whisper a story,
the wind flies me around the world.
...
She is sophisticated and strong
beautiful, bright and bold.
She can do or say no wrong,
never called submissive or quiet
...