Intentions

I've been trying to articulate the nervous feeling you give me.

It's not bad, like Bobby and Whitney, more a calming and wanting, like Olivia and 50.

Music plays in my soul when you're around. I get tingly and "feel good" way way down.

I have a strong desire to know you more. You're an interesting man, I'm knocking at your door.

With all the insight and travel in this life you've had, you've encouraged my perspectives to shift and make plans.

Every time we're together, my mind goes to Salt-N-Pepa land. I lose my words, conversation topics, and all I can think is "Damn, whatta man".

In your physical qualities, you got my mind vibing. You're a tangible gentleman. Handsome, successful, wholesome, and thriving.

But it's your mind my amity often begs to explore. I eagerly urn for open, vulnerable, and raw to the core. My body craves to gain knowledge of all you adore.

Allow me to pick at pieces of your intellect, make slow, sweet love to your retrospect, and be connected with your internal dialect.

Exchanges in closeness and understanding, you laid out in bed. You got them gray sweats on, admiration in my eyes, while I float in your head.

I can't help but wonder what perfect timing this must be, and how my intentions are portrayed to you, here and now, with only you and me.