Mirror, mirror on the wall,
The truth shall be revealed to all.

You are not the number on your waist
neither are you the relaxer in your hair
for you are both dark and lovely and your
heart is soft and free.

You are more than the mountains on your
chest and the gaps between your thighs for
you walk to the beat of your own drum.

Your hair is the strength of your soul planted
in you by your African queen for neither comb
nor person will ever tame the fire in your heart.

Your name flows from lip to lip not because you
swim from bed to bed but because you tear down
anything in your path and build a staircase to paradise.

You were torn from his rib and moulded into a beauty
that outshines critics and silences doubters all with a
smile on her face.

You my love are a goddess so reign supreme and let
your magic fall and watch as we fight just to get a
taste for there is none like you and never will there be.

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