FLAWED

Fair as that succulent Papaya,
Skin the feel of Shea butter.
She was an intriguing mystery,
Perfection! Endowed not miserly.

Eyes like scattered stars,
Which decorated pitch black skies.
She smiled and stole my heart,
Ethereal enchantment! Pure and delicate.

Heart caught on fire,
Hands ever dancing with work.
She is the King among queens,
Virtuous addiction! Pride of her home.

Life of child-like innocence,
Most sublime form created.
She was a contradiction of herself,
Perfectly flawed perfection! My rubies, my gem.


-The Lady



     “And saith unto him, Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine; and when men have
                 well drunk, then that which is worse: but thou hast kept the good wine until now.”
                                                                       John‬ ‭2:10‬ ‭