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Rated: E · Poetry · Writing · #1626299
A whimsical, self-description.
Sweet Cocoa

Like hot cocoa on a cold winter’s morn
The kind of heat where true passion is born
The kind that makes you sweat
Makes young men see visions and old men dream dreams
In my lips there is nectar
In my hips there is strength
Beyond the pain in my eyes is a perpetual innocence
That life just somehow cannot remove
And though I may be bent I am never broken
Seldom will you hear a harsh word spoken
From these lips of nectar, these hips of strength
My path is mine and only mine to choose.
Sweeter than the honey
Dark as the night
Hotter than Texas in the middle of July
My mahogany skin so supple and smooth
The sway of my hips to my own sexy groove
Evokes memories of a lifetime of smoky blues, down home blues

Like hot cocoa on a cold winter’s morn
The kind of heat where true passion is born
My heat can melt the ice of the coldest man’s heart
There is healing in my warmth for a world torn apart
For the children who never knew the way
My spirit will guide them to a better day.
For the young ones who seem so lost
I’ll be the compass as they try to cross
The ocean of eternity.
And for the men and women who cross my path
I’ll be their refuge in the aftermath
Of living.

Sweet
Hot
Dark
Inviting
Comforting
Strengthening
Restoring
Like hot cocoa on a cold winter’s morn.
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