Joy in Repetition

She took just one glance

And it fucked up her whole family dynamic,

The Don is not only larger than life, but he’s gigantic,

The flow is 100% pure, other worldly,

Superior planet,

With the complexion and the stamina

To outlast Inferior stand-ins,

While I was writing paradise,

She was just looking for a good fuck,

After going up and down like a push-up,

I said I was about to conquer poetry,

She said good luck,

Had book ideas back in college,

Gaining that required knowledge,

While lyrics were being polished,

Closed minds were being abolished…

She was begging me to take her to the bedroom

And body slam her with my divine hammer,

The Don,

I’ve always had a way with grammar,

I told her one day I would be writing books,

She said that’s a shame

Because you could get paid off your good looks,

Indeed, there is joy in repetition,

Patterned our position,

Carnal karma caramel honored visions,

Body parts chanting like some out of space religion,

Itching for the penetration

Before her next menstruation,

One word to describe the Don,

“Amazing,”

Star gazing, trailblazing,

Actually, that was three,

Chivalry begins and ends with me,

Back when I penned,

“A Pure Romanticist Locked in Time,”

Many folks weren’t ready for my rhymes,

Every line was a dime,

But they were scared of perfection,

So, they ran towards familiar ignorance for protection,

So, lyrically, I softened my erection,

Crafted more relatable connections,

She said I needed my mouth rinsed

For talking dirty like Prince,

Minutes later I had her convinced,

Her toes curled,

And poetry hasn’t been the same since…