Devante

Countless dreams of heaven, I’ve had but never get to see the big picture in motion. She oozes of heritage that gives life, One that gives life to the dying and eternity to the living. She is of Selah, worthy to behold, You’re not of human that crown queen, But, Of goddess that make gods. I wonder what she thinks of me? I’m having not to jump the gun and move faster than my shadow. I doubt she even knows this? I doubt she even knows what she’s worth? Does she have the problem of the coloured girl? How do you define a black woman’s worthiness to herself? Perhaps I’m the missing piece for her realisation. I often say this but this time I feel it different. I hope she knows I want someone to talk to and listens, As it goes vice-versa, making for deep-level interactions. What is biology without chemistry? I crave telepathy interactions, I’m ready to risk it all again to have this. What is a bond without elasticity? And if I yet again l