It’s 3AM with the venue to capacity,
but I still spot her nonchalant eyes
beyond others making amorous contact
No one has my attention like her,
skin golden, glowing like my cognac
The music is pleasing to me,
but I only care to hear her song, what
appeals to her, and what turns hers on
There is nothing that has my attention
like that woman not seeking
a definition
Not needing to hear her every synonym
from the mouths of unbecoming men
For she knows what she would mean
for any one of them, but do they really
know how precious her mind's ascend
Would they still be so drawn if she
didn’t resemble an hour glass,
would her time still be worth theirs
then?
Hmm, it takes a true King to even begin
to know which way her record spins
It’s a cosmic knowledge, and it pays
homage to who she in spirit
—JG ©2026

