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I love the way
her brownness stands –
for the attention
of my mouth and hands –
like lone tree stumps
on baron lands.
From chocolate brown
to the tan of sand
her brownness resounds with
beauty to me.
Mocha cutie
to coffee bean hottie,
I still marvel at
the awesomeness of her body
encouraging me to fumble
until she mumbles
the ungodly-est of phrases.
She simply amazes.
By her brownness
am I humbled.
For these give sustenance
to the nascent
who find comfort
in their placement –
bolstering infant crowns
while giving suck
to one ‘til sated
by the nurturing
of her physical nature.
Man can never do this.
Such a spirit is deeply rooted
in the being of Goddess
not God!
These mad scientists
cannot undo this!
But they will try
because their hubris
knows no bounds.
I will always place faith
within her brown.
This brown
that fed the nations.
That even fed
the pink mutations
who cavorted intimately
with neanderthalensis derivations
of our genus,
but I digress.
Nectar of gods comes from your flesh;
from the brown fountains of life
sprouting from your beautiful breasts.
That you permit me to delight in them,
my lips and tongue express
my great appreciation
and my deep indebtedness.
For you are Goddess.
You are Mother.
You are life.
- HymnAgen
