Honor Thy Tailor

wayblackwhen:

Say baby, can I be your slave?

I’ve got to admit girl, your the shit girl,
and I am digging you like a grave.

Now do they call you daughter to the Spinning Pulsar,
or maybe Queen of 10,000 Moons, Sister to the distant yet
rising star.

Is your Yemaya? Oh nah, it’s got to be Oshun

Ooh is that a smile me put on your face child?
Wide as a field of jasmine and clover

Talk that talk honey, walk that walk money
High on legs that’ll spite Jehovah
Shit, who am I,
It’s not important
But they call me brother to the night
and right now I am the blues in your left thigh
trying to become the funk in your right

Who am I? ‘ll be whoever you say
But right now I’m the sight raped hunter
blindly pursuing you as my prey

And I just want to give you injections of
sublime erections and get you to dance to my rhythm
make you dream archtypes
of black angels in flight
upon wings of distorted, contorted metaphoric jizm

Come on slim, your man, I ain’t worried about him

It’s you who I want to step to my scene
Cause rather than deal with the fallacy
of this dry reality
I’d rather dance and romance your sweet in a wet dream

Who am I, well they all call me
brother to the night and right now I am
the blues in your left thigh, trying to be the funk in your right
Is that alright?

 

For @deisharocks