You could possibly make love to me
But please bear in mind
That I come with excess baggage
Economic depression
2 .6 million crying tar babies
Mocha refugees
And café-au-lait-wannabe-living-white-fantasies
I might allow you to enter me
Screw with my mind
Your tongue weaving prose
With words I want to hear
You say
All the right things
Do you still,
Y’know, waan fi
Dispel nigger lies
And reclaim our heritage together
With rhythmic
G-spot exploration
Fusing
Black cherry juices
With your ancestors legacy?
I am ready
Ripe and Ready
To bear fruit.
© Chandis 2002