We had phone sex...
Intricately flicking our tongues over stolen instrumentals..
Erykah Badu and Jay Dilla playing in the background..
We fucked with our tongues..
Over the phone...
You spit that
And I spit something to match with it..
Fucked with our tongues..
Talked about the rising of Obama, Michael Jordan, and your penis..
Fucked with our tongues..
We discussed shit that the government wouldn't have liked..
Climbing hills with our mind..
Holding hands with our hearts..
We fucked with our tongues..
And for a second, I thought I heard a faint moan when I asked for your opinion on Erykah Badu's "Window Seat" video..
'Told me you wanted a Window Seat..
'Told me that you hated sitting next to strangers, selling their muslim oils, and their ragged bodys.
We fucked with our tongues..
You ate my words, as I sucked yours..
Your words were spiritual..
Had me in a daze..
Your words hit my eardrum like icecream hitting hot pavement on a summer day..
Except I wasn't that little girl that was sad or hurt that her icecream fell..
I enjoyed it.
I licked it..
Fucked it wit' my tongue...
We fucked with our tongues as we rejoiced Lauryn Hill's future come back
And pretended to be Wyclef Jean..
Fucked with our tongues, and didn't even allow the word love to slip out once..
I like when you fuck me with your tongue
When we talk about the stars that never made it to the sky..
About the sun that never rises and the moon that never comes out to play.