You'd be surprised at the depth of one's conversation
around 4 in the morning; aside from the trivia; aside 
from the moans and curious hums of the night; aside
from the just plain old nosy ass questions, there lies
two human beings trying to get to know each other.

It's a beautiful thing.  Until...

He asks the wrong question.  Until, he speaks the wrong
statement.  Until, he expresses the wrong point of view.
Oh shit!  All hell is about to break loose.  Until...

You can hear the sound of him licking his lips in 
anticipation of your sweet spot.  Until, you 
damn-near cum from the sound of his sexy, deep
baritone reminding you of Barry White on a hot
Summer night with the lights down low and 
dreams of the two of you on the down low.

It's a beautiful thing.  Until...

He makes a rude ass comment and laughs about it.
Until, he vocalizes his prehistoric views of the roles
of men and women in committed (maybe I should be
committed) relationships.  Until, he lets the truth
slip from his tongue, ooze from his lips, and drips 
the chain-like sounds of a controlling behavior.
He just wants to control me.  What I wear.  What
I say.  How I feel about myself.  He has good 
intentions.  Or maybe he just wants to try to help
me?  

It's a beautiful thing.  Until...

I realize that I don't need his fucking help.  I 
love myself.  I love the fact that I wear pants.  
I love the fact that I hate skirts and dresses.
I love the fact that when I open my mouth to
respond to his sweet, yet deceptive baritone
control tactics that I smile through the phone
and say, "Whatever!"  I love the fact that I 
do not fuck every man I am attracted to,
yet I can make them cum so hard from the mere 
sound of my voice; from the mere thought
of getting up in this pussy that they damn-near
lose their minds and never had to touch me once.
I love the fact that my power lies within my
mind; within my heart; within my spirit.  I 
love the fact that I don't have to show
cleavage to let a muthafucka know I got
big tits.  I love the fact that I am too black,
too strong.  I love the fact that in the midst
of great terror in this world, there is no 
shame in my game when I drop down to my
knees and give praise to the Almighty.  
I love the fact that I know I am a sinner.
I love the fact that I know I am a spirit.
I love the fact that I know that I know
that I know that I know that I know
WHO I AM.  

It's a beautiful thing.  Because...
it's not defined by any human being
except ME.