Black Poetry
Baasch
I move my hips to your sudden drifts
Naked skin became leather
In the name of poetry
I have made us happen
What have I done to you?
What have I done?
I made you the substitute of what I used to have
What have I done to you?
What have I done?
I made you the substitute
Enough of yesterday for tonight
Judge me all about you
Now it's indecently sensual
Relocated and captured
What have I done to you?
What have I done?
I made you the substitute of what I used to have
What have I done to you?
What have I done?
I made you the substitute
I couldn't see what I've had