Me, My Curves, and I {Interracial Romance} #Wattys2017

In Progress

When she told me about how she got fired from the Coco Enterprises, the expression on her face with God's morning rays from Heaven flashing at her forlorn frown. My fingers press on the keyboard, tying the letters and words across the screen.

'She looked so forlorn

I can tell because her heart is torn

I asked her what's wrong;

She apprised to me that she lost her job song.'

"This verse looks as easy as one, two, three!" I speak my thoughts out loud and think about the next verse.

'Her brown eyes softens

Which is the pool of dark chocolate that you'll be lost in

Long, breeze-blowing hair dancing in the wind

Winning her attention and love is no sin." I type while my fingers make a clanking sound on the keyboard each sentence at a time.

'The light of the candle is beaming at her caramel skin after love

She is truly blessed by Jesus Christ from above In Heaven and Earth, she is beloved

In truth, she will be loved

Any man can be lucky to make love to their lady

Before considering for a baby

If you want a lady, respect her values on herself

I have my woman and I refuse to be alone by myself

The woman I endear is beautiful and she's worth it

Because she's really working with the curves of hers

No woman should be judged by their appearance

While the other group is in a distance

No matter what height, color, or body shape our ladies are,

She is still a woman equally

Even when we're making love that feels so right

Make her feel like her own woman in the night.'

I drag my cup to take another sip because I just accomplished my first poem about the inner and outer beauty of a woman with different body shapes, genetic disorders, heights, and the colors of their skins. When I was five and a half years old, I saw Sir Mix-a-Lot's "Baby Got Back" music video while my brother who was ten years old at the time was in the bathroom. I was like, 'What the heck is this,' when my parents came back from the supermarket and glare at the TV singing about butts. You should've seen my mother; she screamed, 'RANDALL!' Man, that was funny!

I assure myself if there is anything I need to check my grammar on the poem. No in-corrections. I click the 'Publish' button and notify my followers by posting a notification about the first chapter of a new book I am involved with. I've decide to come up with the name of the book... Every Women's Ballads because this will be a hardcover book of collected poems about what women are going through on a daily basis, their insecurities about themselves, and the beauty of their personalities, traits, perspectives, and appearances.

A knock on my door prevented my interruption and I walk to the door. "Who is it?" I query.

"Please open the door, Uncle Danny! It's me!" I hear my niece Iris' orotund high-pitching voice echoes. "Who is, 'It's me?'" I tease.
"Uncle Danny, it's me; Iris and Mommy!"