Suga mamma

I call him Azucar, the Spanish word for sugar

The way his words sit on my spirit like honey, sweet and steady,

He entices me with a magic I can not explain.. 
Chance encounters, he said he has observed me from a far, chose me out theropod, although word on the street is that I’d be nothing more than a number to him, one in a million women he can/does  get because “a fuck is least of his worries”; or so he says he’s looking for someone to trust without giving reason to have earned the same. 
“Fuck me” i say every time I think about how he dicked me down epically… In a way I haven’t been handled since I submitted and gave my life to he who shall not named. 

Now that I, single, independent, empowered, self-employed artist woman in charge of my own destiny, manifesting life like you breathe, has choice; bartering time for money… Taking on lovers as I see the fit my needs at that moment, knowing he ain’t trying to claim me; figured a hustler could respect those trying to pay me, knowing I save all the things that mean something for one I find worthy. 

It unfortunate he wasn’t. 

Proved that he’d waste my time [#2017] before respecting my intelligence and hustle. Ain’t nobody got time for that when it’s just me, myself, and I at the end of the day. Going “home” to a bed that mirrors my heart; empty. 

Lonely.

I felt comfort laying in him as the sun came up. I live in the memory of his gaze, looked at me like I am beautiful. Everytime. Not just when I was naked. Makes me believe it. Believe I am more tha, pretty for a black girl. (The best I had heard till 20 or so)

Maybe  it was the electricity that passed through our hands the first time they touched. Introduction as magic. When magic is manifestation. When it feels real but isn’t. 

I let his kisses sit on my thighs and his words sit on my spirit like honey. For theyre sweetness. They are steady. They are a wish for a day that never comes. Tomorrow. He always says tomorrow. A sweet dream indeed. 

I call him Azucar, the Spanish word for sugar. Sweet as his words that sit on my spirit like honey. Let them run through me, soothing the sting of my loneliness. 

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