Breathing Your Air, A Slice Of Pie and A Jalapeño

I hate you for doing this to me.

I can't breathe without you all up in my face
expelling oxygen you've used cause' mine
doesn't seem so fresh

Every time I close my eyes to rejuvenate and rest
you're right up under my eyelids
causing me to toss and turn
reaching to grasp
the escaping thought that is you

It's cool because my arm is draped around you
securing your skin against mine
in the middle of the night keeping me warm

And I get that repeated chance to press up against your booty

For breakfast I need you
to scramble my eggs

For lunch I'm always late
coming back from coming back...

For dinner it's always a thigh or a leg
maybe I'll get lucky and get a spicy combo meal
with a breast tonight

and a jalapeño

and some mashed potatoes

and some dirty rice.

You know I likes the dirty rice

For desert, I must always have your pie
At times I just want to dive right in face first
just plowing and wading through
with my tongue and lips swallowing you whole

It ain’t right to feast without having you dripping from my chin

It's like I'm addicted and I'm not sure
if I foresee a cure

What happens if I wane myself of you?

Will I be able to function properly?
How can I get dressed?
I mean, who will I get dressed for?

What will I eat?

How will I breathe?

Will I ever be able to enjoy desert the same way again?

Yeah, face first... I know, I know

Don't make me answer those questions
just shut up and let me hate you

Right after I get done with this meal

And take my nap

And breathe

Then I'll hate you for doing this to me
I'll just need one more slice of pie.

Can I eat some of your pie?

copyright 2006 Hassan Ntimbanjayo