to fall for a muse is a dangerous game for he inspires me and my soul to create the unknown meaning this man is sure to be the absolute end of me as I keep growing older but I feel as if I’m a flower that has not yet bloomed but somehow I still find a way to cherish a man, for he is a reflection knotted and hair twisted and curled from the roots written in grace, kissed by the sun, melanin skin deep with brown eyes that sees through false teachings so he's no greek goddess but a king that conquered the heavens with perfection in his bones. ignite herb, black smoke fills my lungs, controlling a high i never felt or will never feel like God in my system which will forever mean he’s my keeper a beautiful collation of poetry and chocolate he was — a garden of tulips that was appetizing, crafted by God. shaped his love to beauty that was a offspring’s of Cleopatra, Nefertiti, and Makeda so “King he's always been” a blessing in disguise who desired cerebral stimulation, mental penetration, repeated orgasms multiple times with raw passion forming emotions in those words that manifest, mutating him musically with genius rediscovering his smile.