Between the sheets

I long for the feel of your grainy texture.
 Turning, flicking, I browse in anticipation of your promise
 
Sucking in your woody scent better transends me
Sharing you with other lovers increases my satisfaction.
 
You're bound to be replaced, some say,
by something more advanced – more appropriate for our times.
 
But what would become of the balance,
recycling, sharing of pleasures and planting of trees?

Here

My protruding backside fits in perfectly here.

Here, where the sunshine ensures warmth, the people speak the language I understand
and resemble the me I see when I look in the mirror.

Life just makes sense here.

Sweet Smelling Man

Muscles look tight under 'im jersey top.
Watch de lickle bounce in 'im walk. 
‘im well know ‘im look sweet.
Mmm. Ah bet him smell good too…  

Me can always mek time fe a sweet smelling man.

He said...

He loved the roundness of my ‘boompsie’
and the way it bounced up and down when I walk.
‘Walk and wine’, is what he said I did and he loved it.

He said he loved my coarse curly hair and smooth dark skin.
I didn’t need make up. I had nothing to conceal.

So why has he replaced me with the girl in the spiky heels?

Barbie-doll weave cascades past her shoulders;
you wonder what her face really looks like under that scented coloured paste.

A ‘boompsie’ reduction. Would that tackle the ‘walk and wine’?
Should I find a way to straighten my kinks?
Skin lighteners ‒ I hear they’re popular these days.

A few cosmetic changes ‒ is that the road I should take to keep my man?