When you breathe I want to be the air for you, I told her

Such flattery, she said. Yes, flattery it may be. Yet, true it is

As true as sunset and sunrise

As true as thirst on a hot summer day

When you laugh I want to be the source of that laughter, I told her.

Such flattery, she said. Yes, flattery it may be. Yet, true it is.

As true as the truth marked by her beauty

The beauty that transcends her hotness and sexual appeal.

Yea, that true

If sugar sweetens tea then her love sweetens my existence.

Sugar, love, honey, babes, pineapple, beauty, daakyehemaa — there are no right words

Right words to express what she means to me.

Her perfectly crafted body and perfected thought of mannerism

There’re no words

Her beauty caused The Maker to applaud Himself after creating her.

Too much? Too little.

Remember, there’re no words

A beautiful spirit accompanied by a body crafted like a Khalid album: grace, nice features

Too much? Too little.

Remember, there’re no words

No words to express the meaning she gives to love

I want to love her like the first time I rode a bicycle — without gloves, knee pads and helmet-full of innocence, laughter and bruises

Flattery? Yes, it may be

Yet truthful it is

sugar糖

Thoughts of an uneducated poet

#qemmydaakye

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