I spy trouble ahead
As I feel a familiar ache
Between my legs
The sheen of sweat
On my thighs
Prevents me from turning
A blind eye
That ache throbs
Like kente drums
As my hips move and sway
My energy hums
Hums, as my eye devours
Its prize
Hums, I will take and not apologize;
I spy trouble ahead
As I feel a familiar ache
Between my legs.
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