When you speak I love to listen.
And your words glisten with such ambition that, without my permission, every time you open your mouth to exclaim mine does the same; and I look insane because when you finish your sentence, here I am still stuck in this position.
Because of you, Eloquence, it is now a tradition for my body to feel like every room we’re in together is a toaster, and my mouth has been open for so long it’s as if my chin needs a coaster.
You understand that if your mind is aligned with Fresh Prince’s co-star, that pure physical beauty can only get you so far.
You see I’m not easily impressed by the Hilary’s.
The greater the intellectual finesse, the less time I spend trying to guess if I ever intend on watching our clothes descend.
But I’ll spend all the time in the world ‘til we get there. Because, like wine, the longer I spare and leave you in the distillery the better the fruit of the vine tastes.
Conversations with you leave my soul and mind in great shape.
That’s why I can’t wait for every opportunity I get to witness you exercise your First Amendment rights.
Every word that leaves your lips picks me up and takes me to new contentment heights.
Even Jesus Christ spoke that, “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.”
So that might explain why every time I listen to you speak it’s like scripture, and I can’t help but feel like I’m fortunate enough to witness your words secretly paint me a picture of paradise.
To find a woman like you will inspire any man to aspire to start rolling a pair of dice.