Anger’s starting
to boil up
under my skin.
I can feel its atoms
slowly gathering together,
getting ready to extract
You
from my blood vessels.
It will squeeze
You
out,
leaving me dry from life,
leaving me dead,
leaving me behind.
My dark skin
stands as a proof
that I am
Your slave,
Your servant,
my white master.
My master,
I thought
I would never sing again.
Thank you for being
my inspiration,
for starting the avalanche
of my crippled emotions.
My white master,
my white owner,
Your black slave
is in need of
You.
Nedostaje. Njegove oči. Tako zelene. Tako čudne. Menjaju boju. Budu sive. Pa mutne. Smeju se. Gledaju nežno. Uozbilje se. Pametne su. Duboke. Mogla bih potonuti u tim očima. Bez straha da se ne ugušim.
Njegove usne. Taj mladež na usni koji toliko ne voli. Ja ga obožavam. Jedinstven je. Prelep je. Savršen.
Njegove mane. Bar one koje znam. S tim manama bih mogla da živim.
On...
