She’s a cocoa-mocha, cappuccino soaker. I love her dreadlocks that I can pick, to get inside her head. Chocolate butter eyes that melt me where I stand. My heart is in her hand, and her hand is in mine. I want her mind up where we can meld in song, soul and deed. She’s got those hip shakin, legs walkin’, breasts bouncin’, way of doin’ things, and I sure am glad I’m her marshmallow crème.
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