as she blushed shyly,
at the endearing name.
Asking boldly of its concept and orgin,
mentally allowing its signature to seep in, without any shame.
After all like a shadow it followed straight pass her teens.
As she became full of deep questions, hopeful wishes,
and a mirage of dreams.
Her dreams were always in color detailed to the T, in some her travels were like missions,
she woke abruptly from, too be free.
No one ever inquired about the seriousness locked inside her
they only spoke of her beauty and mannerisms,
for a little girl her size.
By teens the mysterious stare was her entrance into being even more observant,
totally aware as nothing passed her, not without her approval,
from taught lessons, occurrences.
In adulthood she was revisited often by shortened version’s of her youthful name,
as she’d began hearing more frequently, Hot chocolate and Chocolatey,
by unknown constituents,
unaware of its designed fame. Knowing nothing of her cocoa scent, and addiction too the flavor,
it began a rebellious brewing inside, in which she thought,
dealt with opposing behaviors.
Then a stranger explained,
that her smooth skin gave off a liquidy, rippling sweetness only comparable too the effects of chocolate, even in solid form its richness was arousing,
not to question but be proud of how she was perceived,
by eyes that held her beauty as so powerfully breathtaking,
its name must be said simply,
too take in its intoxicating hold.
From that point on she welcomed it, for how it was passionately told.
Although she analyzed each circumstance,
on a case by case basis. She grasped the concept that everyone loved as she did, enjoying each difference to all races.
It took her back too a comfortably whispered wind, from youth too serenely hear,
no matter ages escape Chocolate Drop chime from her history,
sweet music forever too homesick ears.
Thinker on the Loose
Copyright (c) 2017