I got frostbite last night,
By my lady,
She told me,
If it ain’t about love,
She don’t want to hear it,
She demanded and commanded,
Wave her hand at me,
As if she had a ward,
All I knew was,
In the end,
I was turned on,
I was frozen,
I was cold,
Bolder than ever before,
For she is my queen,
Ebony,
She deserves everything she needs,
So I committed,
I respect,
I will do whatever it is,
She desires,
For she may have sounded coldhearted,
For what she asked for and required,
But her communication clear,
It was sold.
Photo by Taylor Boggs
Art, Stories & Poetry 