She leaves a space between her syllables that can only be understood by individuals with a certain confidence.

 

A confidence that rests like honey in a warm room,

Smooth and consistent,

Leaving traces of its presence on every surface of uncertainty.

 

It’s in the time that she takes to say “Good Morning” and “Good Night”

That you’ll find an agreement that doesn’t need to be said aloud.

 

Today, she chose you.

 

And who knows if tomorrow will sound the same,

But stand firm in the truth that it’s not easy to reign supreme in her mind,

And if that tiny voice in your head says you’ve made it into her heart,

Give thanks.

 

She may never say those exact words ‘cause it’s in the way she says your name,

She’ll make you food to show she’ll fight for you,

And hug tighter when she knows she’s right for you.

Others have lacked intuition to provide the type of soil that can nourish her roots,

They’ve suffocated her with sunshine,

Not the refreshing type after a soft rain,

The kind that stings when you’ve laid in wait too long,

Staring,

Wishing for a cloud of aloe

To soothe the burns from another’s lack of patience,

Seeds don’t sow overnight.

 

She wants to see if you trust that her gardens give back,

And that she speaks louder than you think.

If you silence your ego you’ll understand what she really believes.

 

She believes that love is real and she’s deserving of the purest of it.

She believes there is magic in the subtleties between realism and daydreams.

She is The Sweetest Thing that Ms. Lauryn Hill was talking about,

Her aura leaves lyricists with cotton mouth,

Forced to learn a new language to say ‘I Love You’.

If you’re frustrated,

Remember,

The purest of love forces us all to dig deep.

 

The spaces between her syllables reveal intentions,

They cause waves in waters that want to rush to the shore,

She wants to know that when there’s nothing left to say

The rooms won’t feel empty,

Any throat can eject an ‘I Love You’

But not everyone’s love is filling.

 

Not everyone’s love seeks to touch the horizons of her being.

How quickly they forget that she is not a Goddess,

She is human.

 

She leaves spaces to understand your interpretations.

 

Riddle me this lover boy,

What do you really see when she’s naked?