My Obsession (The Way She Moves)

Her locs lay over the pronounced arch in her back
Caressing her ample round
Before dropping down to the curvature in her calves
The fineness of every strand did flow in complete unison with her essence
She danced an enchanting story with all her anatomy
Exploiting the magic of movement to metamorphose into different forms
Many would stare at her in awe
Fascinated by her rhythmic gestures
She continued to twirl in her humility
As if her preposterous beauty was the norm
Eloquently weaving daedal patterns amid the celebration of her souls confessions
Sharing the secrets of her heart with archaic ritual expression
I wonder if she knows by the way I lay eyes on her
That she is my obsession



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