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If making love is an artform, then our canvas should be filled with so many colors that God himself says I’ll be damned, I gotta take the rainbow back and create something else, I literally want to paint you, I mean like seriously, display you for all to see while dusting you off after the museum closes for business, see I get timid when dealing with buried treasure, and its when I bury myself inside of you that I learn the true meaning of history, and that’s when you enter into a sacred temple that walls should not be desecrated, If my isn’t having a conversation with you then I’m doing it all wrong, with every stroke he should be telling you why every man before me was the wrong choice, why I am the only one who should keep you moist, and pardon me, and occasional hoist may be necessary so I hope your frequent flier mile points have not yet been redeemed, because sometimes love is unseen, as a man, we plan on entering into a dark crevice where waters may have been tested but every man couldn’t swim, and personally, I wanna drown, because beneath the ocean lies an abundance of life, and from your pacific, you give life to be specific, this feeling right here is terrific, and had I known this would be the feeling, I would’ve prayed to God to be deaf and blind so when I became baptized in your holy waters I could see perfection and hear your calls from an erection giving you subliminal injections, and no, this is not Love Jones, but you can call me brotha to the night, because good pipe will have you forgetting a ’s name because your brain is in a lustful malfunction and crossing this junction is the best risk ever taken, and as we awaken, sweaty and tired from deep fried sessions we again begin to feed on a love that is not ashamed, so tame this snake to your garden of eden, let me bite into the fruit that cursed mankind, but this time, When God comes and asks why are you hiding, I’ll respond I’m not, my manhood is simply buried in mother earth, planting the seed for another fruit tree to grow, because you said be fruitful and multiply, so while I divide these trees, please God, do not interrupt me from being the gardener you intended me to be, your son may have come from a virgin, but my son will come from a version of what you created on the eighth day, and we all know that you perform well after you’ve rested, so let me bless this, and You focus on everyone else, cause in this good book, our conversations aren’t divided into chapter and verses, it is simply her vs. me, the best conversation that I could ever imagine taking place
