I adore you for your brownness
What's more, the adjusted murkiness of your bosom
I adore you for the softening pity up your voice
What's more, shadows where your wayward eye-covers rest.
Something of old overlooked rulers
Prowls in the agile desert of your walk
What's more, something of the shackled slave
Wails in the cadence of your discussion
Goodness, minimal dark colored young lady, conceived for distress' mate
Keep all you have of queenliness
Overlooking that you were used to be slave
What's more, given your full lips a chance to chuckle at Fate!