I can’t explain why I stared at him
He was just there, with a protruding head filled with fake science.
Tall with a deep dark skin
His skin didn't have much of the meat
I was scared of him at first
Yet to my disbelieve I came to realize that he was amazing.
I will talk of that later.
The enigma inside me preaches a thing
That I should be the best woman he has ever met before
Sometimes he treats me like Queen Ann
Other days he becomes nasty but I don’t hate it
Oh, dearly me, he keeps making me mad.
I haven’t comprehended a wink
Why I keep coming back to him.
What charm might he have on me?
No, maybe none.
Or it might be some sort of a juxtaposed mystery.
I will detail that more later.
I want him to make me his Cleopatra
But I don’t see a shadow of that subject
In his big brown African eyes
He is a great walker and a tireless moose.
He makes me do that too.
Someone please tell my darling that I am a woman.
But hey no, I can’t tell him.
The pain is buried deep inside my veins.
His kisses are a masterpiece but help least
Neither is the final stage of electrostatics’ law.
I won’t say that I love him
But neither do I treat him otherwise
It’s too early for that and he knows.
Perhaps, you will know more in a moment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poetic imagination, Quir. You may like to read my poem, Love and Lust. Thanks