Bottom Line

circa 2006


Torn to pieces and
Shattered across ghetto street corners,
Spoken against and not for…
Stepped on by the unwatchful, neglectful eye.
Yet somewhere among fresh Nubuck Tims
Scuffed Forces
And rough Shells
I still can say I love you.
Yet somewhere amidst chic 8 with the fat ass,
Lady 1 with the pretty smile
And bitch 2 with the good pussy
I still can say I love you.
And through all of your exes, sexes and other jawns,
Baby, I still love you.

There once was this couple
Strollin’ through Center, Olde and my City.
They were dreaded and sexed up.
Held, lifted and carried high in the other’s eye.
I saw love etched, kissed and taled on their faces
Smiling happily, hand into hand, flesh apart of flesh.
I couldn’t help but to wonder
If ever gray clouds baring bad news
Not with the prediction of “Oh my child, he will twist,
Lick and fuck you like no other.
Thou shall sweat from the pleasurable pain
His beautiful thang puts on you?
So as they strolled in and out of Market, Chestnut and Broad streets.
The question came back and forth to me-
That is, until two weeks later,
I ran into brotha man
And he was different.
Suave and cool,
Relaxed and a tad bit sexual.
He was still dreaded up, dressed in flip-flops, jeans and tees
But the difference today--
He wanted to holla at me:
The urban lady 
Permed and dyed
Classy, flashy and sexy in every sense of the word
The epitome of rags to riches in the city:
Coach, Douney and Louie,
Chanel, Gucci and Dolce.
My style caught his eye
And my 36D’s and fat ass caught his thang.
So between wanting to talk and converse,
Amidst needing to twist, lick and fuck me like no other,
He and I both knew,
Sista girl with the dreads and clean smile
Whom had his heart two weeks ago
Can still say to him
Like I to you: baby, I love you.

In and out of our battles,
Through the times that draw tears
And those that create smiles
Late nights in back seats
Fogged up windows and sweat dripping foreheads
Sore limbs and satisfied flesh,
Baby it’s you to whom I love.
Though my heart has been torn and shattered
Battered by false loves
And a fear of falling, needing and wanting to love,
Baby it’s you to whom I love.

So amidst the fresh Nubuck Tims,
Scuffed Forces,
And rough Shells.
Amidst chic 8 with the fat ass,
Lady 1 with the pretty smile
And bitch 2 with the good pussy.
Through all of your exes, sexes and other jawns.
Amidst me, the urban lady,
Permed and dyed
Classy, flashy and sexy in every sense of the word
The epitome of rags to riches in this city:
Coach, Douney and Louie,
Chanel, Gucci and Dolce.
Amidst my problems, fears and insecurities-
Shit man, I still love you!

So to hell with all the men, boys and dudes who want me.
To hell with all the women, girls and chics who want you.
To hell with those who said we’d never make it.
To hell with the fly brotha dreaded up in his flip-flops, jeans and tees.
Baby, I’ll take your sweats, Jordans and hoodies.
I’ll take your commitment, marriage and children.
I’ll take your basketball shorts and shirtless ass at night.
I’ll take your hidden fears that I know not of.
I’ll take you-
Every pound, ounce, inch and increment of you.
Baby,
When it’s all said and done,
It’s you to whom I love.
And that I tell you is the bottom line…