Gotta Love Us

Gotta love us studs
Proclaiming security while blanketed with self doubt
Sucking on thighs to let the demons out
Fitted with air force ones
Donning button downs and button ups
Cocky grins swinging from hips
Checking out girls with big butts
As the radio teases, watch my bois pretend not to listen too hard,
pretend not to breathe in the bassline and bars.

Too busy searching for g-spots and singing thru hips, using vaginas as microphones. To escape the pain again.

Like boneless chicken, the flavor stays in, soft and tough until properly slackened, wrapping around the hems of my pants and creeping up like the beat before the dance ends.

Engine going, a mile a minute, mind is heavy, thoughts are swimming, love and loss and life extended.
Reminiscing her natural beauty
And why am I pretending

I’m not in love

Gotta love us studs; just struttin’ through life, rebels with causes, rebels with wives
Killing the menfolk with all those thighs

My lover lay there satisfied like every time

I aim to please when my shadow comes alive

Our eyes, they meet and my baby browns say hello to her piercing greens, blues and yellows

Depending on the time of day and what mood invades

I become undone under the force of her gaze

Gotta love us studs: sensitive and vulnerable, strong and sure of ourselves, resilient in the face of adversity.

Run tell that:

The butch femme dynamic is alive and well in tact

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