Giving him something real
Can he feel it’s not fake?
Real cellulite
It moves, wiggles, and shakes
Chokolate Cinnamon Milkshake
To the yard
The boys I keep caged away
My milkshake is reserved
I don’t even come out to play
I wonder if he dreams of the thick of the milk
His little Chokolate chip
The way he dips me
In his milk
Covers made of silk
Okay real quick
I was willing to give my heart
But too hot to handle the pot
The kettle heard the choo
Away he ran off; he flew
Away from this fudge of love
He wouldn’t want a cookie
Even if he wanted to
Yeah that is just how confusing he is too
Moore Consciousness, Confidence, and Clarity For The Collective. 