Soul Food(Black Women taste good)

CATEGORY

I like my woman much how I like my almond milk, chocolate with a small hint of honey, thick and firm as if she been raised off of collard greens and cornbread her whole life, and I know some people don’t *** with chitlins cause they nasty, but there’s no better way to show love than by getting in her guts, and I know some of y’all missed that metaphoric equation, but let me tell you about this persuasion I have for the black woman, she is my plate of watermelon, chicken and grits, with a slight twist of pepper for spice, mixed with a lil cinnamon for her brown skin, see I thought slave food was bad all this time, but my sistas are made from men in the field, house s are too comfortable, cause sometimes you gotta strong arm her, throw her against the wall and let her know what the *** bout to go down, I like mines personally with anthat’s a lil round with stretch marks and jiggles like thatdone been to war in the middle….east…..but she’s throws my mind way left cause the way she cooks up my soul is a beast, the way she seasons my spirit is the equivalent to going to grandma’s house for that thanksgiving feast, and the way she tastes...I’m just like...oh my god, but it’s so many levels to that , when she feeds me the lit from books and attainable knowledge it’s like eating a bowl of black eyed peas with okra snaps, when she snaps off in defense of her black kings it’s literally like tasting my own dreams and throwing em back up to reality, when I’m down and her healing touch feeds my tummy, it’s like a plate of neckbones tenderized and yummy, but when I taste what in the middle….I say when I taste what’s in the middle....when I taste what’s in the middle, my eating habits become that of a two month old baby, forgive me for not wearing a bib or sitting on a high stool, I prefer my meal served laying down flat on they back, no fork or spoon needed, I do it like they do in the south, clump everything together and simply work with my fingers and my mouth, and if a black woman was a meal, that would be macaroni and cheese with the scrambled eggs sound when you mixing it together, with a side of gravy drizzled over some tender pot roast, a serving of green beans with white potatoes and neckbones, and pardon me for my moans and belches afterwards, but that’s the sign that a is full and well fed, kissing on her skin is like a warm serving of banana bread, It turns to peach cobbler when I start to taste her goals and ambitions, but it seems like something is missing...let me think...I got the kool aid, the greens, the black eyed peas, macaroni and cheese, what the *** is really missing...it’s this, its my fellow brothers who pass up soul food for whole foods, and nah playa, I’m not mad at you, do what you do, it’s just that I prefer my meat with some lawrys, a lil cajun spice and all the seasonings that make it right, cause when you add that up, that cooks up into a wife, so black woman, I’m sorry if I made you a lil hungry with this, but this is simply my way of saying...I love you