She Who Makes Love To Me
Such a lovely ebony woman
so deserved to be loved
more precious than rubies
she is mentioned in Proverbs
when she kisses me and smiles
clouds darken the skies of her eyes
her fragrant breasts become a garden
After such tender mercies are offered
where myrtle bloomed red and spikenard white
quivering in the ruins of our pleasure
where bounteous kisses ran amok
distant groans where whirlwind struck
whispering moans of joy and anguish
caressing the russets of our blushes
we are docile, drooping weak as a leaf
Lost in the sweet feelings of gratefulness
of making love and the zeal to please
she who knows how to sway mercy from disdain
she who aggravates or sweetens my chains
mesmerizing me during sad or tranquil hours
increasing my affections with her indifference
she who holds the authority and the power
to keep account of my joys, my love, and my pain
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