I’m in love with a girl.
Love is love, so we were told. But what if it was all a lie? What if love isn’t love but rather her?.
What if it was the way I looked out for her, her interests and her happiness. How I obsess over her curves, her hip dip, her black eyes which turn hazel when under light.
You are prolly wondering what she looks like.
She is a dark skinned woman with hips and buttocks that sway left-right while she walks. Other say she is fat I say she is perfection with her rolls of beauty on her back and the evidence that lightening visited her waist and buttocks.
Asides being pretty, she is ambitious and goal driven, works hard cause baby girl lifestyle won’t fund itself.
A peng thing! Pretty little thing! Asampete. Allow me call her all these names please cause she is a babe and more. More of what? I don’t know yet.
I’m in love with how she comes into a room and everyone catches her vibe, her energy is contagious. Her smile lights the whole place up. I’m in love with how she is aware of herself, in love that she loves and cherished herself.
I’m in love with my existence.