Her porcelain skin and long brown hair are hypnotizing to any man.
Her eyes so big and blue you could drown in them if you look too long.
Her body curves perfectly in all the right places,
she’s almost too perfect to touch.
Almost.
Her lips so full and sensual, leaving deep, purple bruises on your neck.
Sometimes... I wonder how it would feel to be the one leaving those same bruises
dancing along your skin.
If it was MY body you found pleasure in instead of hers.
Then I remember that nothing about me appeals to you.
My skin far too brown for your liking it\'s like God has punished me with the Sun.
My hair isn’t long and soft,
No, unlike hers I have deep, black curls that coil so tight to my head I resemble Medusa.
I have what some might call “black girl magic”, but can’t seem to cast my spell on you.
You’re the only one who can make me feel shameful about my ethnicity
and I hate you for that.
I hate you for not wanting me the way I want you.
I hate you for leading me on for so many years.
I would have given you the world…
and I still would.
You would just have to say the words.
Even if they were only whispers in the shadows.
So low that they were almost inaudible.
I would still let you have your way with me,
as long as you told me you loved me.
Allowing you to vandalize my body just so I could hear you murmur how good I feel around you.
How tight I am or how good I taste.
I crave these fantasies more than a slave craves freedom.