I want to know your deepest desires. I want to surprise you with all of them. Is there a special place that you want to make love to me? Perhaps a beach in Spain, a rainforest in Hawaii? Have you decided how often you will say you love me, or will you grind it into my skin when making love to me? Do you remember the shooting star we saw in Mali, it seemed so close that I wanted to grab it, to place it in your hair. I want to take you to Mount Vesuvius. I want to prove to the world that nothing will ever make me as hot as you do, never. I want to hear you say you love me, please; I want to feel my blood burn my skin. It is a sensation I crave. Do you remember when we walked alone in the Serengeti, the beasts of the wild approached and bowed to your majesty. We watch the sunset, so big and beautiful that it looked like it was slipping down the edge of the world. You are staring at the sunset with tears in your eyes, and I am staring at you with tears in mine. I thought Africa would show me something as beautiful as you. It did not. Then I understood, you were born of the Mother, and she gave you more beauty than I thought possible. You are a queen, and Africa is your throne, and I am very blessed. Never wonder if I love you; it is how I breathe.
© Q. Javon Overton 2019