naz poetry spot

my queen... my rib...
I bow to you...
a man lowered before you...
why should a man not be seen lowered to his queen...
deeply your ebony eyes search me for sincerity...
I bow to kiss your tired feet...
Offer your hand and it will feel that this man has a soft touch...
things of value are handled gently... the lightest kiss.
bow down before you
I feel vast blessings...
your inner thighs against the sides of my face...
a moist, dense rainforest... a peaceful place...
shut my eyes to hear the drop... soft smooth moans of rain...
you shower me with wetness...
You have given birth to this world...
yet where is your crown?
from last, I hear only lies upon your virtue...
denials, upon your worth...
repressed your stature...
I see only the highest within you...
Are you not Exalted among women?
My African Queen...?
Are you not the mother of this Earth?
Have you not Endured endless sins of Men?
Eating your fruit without a thought...
Of what will become of this Seed?
exalted one...
Should you not be worshiped?
by choice you surrender your fruit...
allowed to taste your sacred sex...
should I not slowly part the flesh with my lips?
should my tongue not rejoice...
if by choice... you offer it should I not bless it with licks?
should I not explore you with abandon and joy...
deeper and deeper... within your sweetest depths...
exalted one...
the highest gift the greatest pleasure...
my queen I bow to you...
deserving beyond my ability...
I remembered your heights, phenomenally, phenomenal...
Woman...
a man... should serve you... his love...
hear me now...
you are my heart, my purest purpose...
my exalted one...