I recall, years not far, not near,
From behind, I stopped and stare.
At a sweet sight then in nostalgic,
An African, simple like a frypan.
On sight, my boldness disappear,
She cat-walked for my eyes to dare.
Her waist caused a jam on traffic,
Her aura comes with a cooling fan.
She is a fantasy in my emotional race,
A rare, phenomenal flawless Angel.
A pretty black apple, sweet and tasty,
An attraction more forceful than gravity.
Her hairs shone sun on my dark face,
She’s an attractive goddess thick as gel.
From behind, I approached my curiosity,
For if she’s a sin: heaven would be empty.