Steven Hunley
02-25-2010, 08:15 PM
She Be Dance Music Good
by
Steven Hunley
Neneh was skinny, just how I like ‘em. I got a theory on that. Nerve ending are limited in number. You’ve only got so many. When you get fat you spread the ones on the skin apart. You can’t feel so good so you can’t feel so good, know what I mean? Skinny girls got ‘em closer together all over the place. All sensitive to touch they are, and all so responsive. And that’s OK with me. I gotta have my match.
Without yer match you’ve got no fire, without fire no light. No light, no knowledge, and so on. I don’t make the rules I just skirt them, if you get my drift.
The up curves that started where her slim neck met her shoulders ran down their length becoming down curves. They were the most beautiful S curves ever negotiated by eye. I knew the journey’s end wasn’t going anywhere. If it could wait then so could I. It was time to take your time. Patience with her was key.
That’s why she liked me. I was the only one who took enough time to drive her crazy. She liked going crazy more often than not. She couldn’t help herself. That’s just how she was built.
Her brown hair had curl some women would kill for. She could do that thing with curls so they’d hang down like feminine errant sideburns in front of her ears. These would often tangle in her dangly earrings of either silver or gold, it made no difference.
Neneh was Cherry to say the least.
“Is she really that good?”
“Nineh Cherry be Dance Music Good,” is what I heard, “and… she can rap.”
Author’s note: for anyone not familiar with Neneh Cherry’s work I suggest looking up Buffalo Stance on U-tube.
by
Steven Hunley
Neneh was skinny, just how I like ‘em. I got a theory on that. Nerve ending are limited in number. You’ve only got so many. When you get fat you spread the ones on the skin apart. You can’t feel so good so you can’t feel so good, know what I mean? Skinny girls got ‘em closer together all over the place. All sensitive to touch they are, and all so responsive. And that’s OK with me. I gotta have my match.
Without yer match you’ve got no fire, without fire no light. No light, no knowledge, and so on. I don’t make the rules I just skirt them, if you get my drift.
The up curves that started where her slim neck met her shoulders ran down their length becoming down curves. They were the most beautiful S curves ever negotiated by eye. I knew the journey’s end wasn’t going anywhere. If it could wait then so could I. It was time to take your time. Patience with her was key.
That’s why she liked me. I was the only one who took enough time to drive her crazy. She liked going crazy more often than not. She couldn’t help herself. That’s just how she was built.
Her brown hair had curl some women would kill for. She could do that thing with curls so they’d hang down like feminine errant sideburns in front of her ears. These would often tangle in her dangly earrings of either silver or gold, it made no difference.
Neneh was Cherry to say the least.
“Is she really that good?”
“Nineh Cherry be Dance Music Good,” is what I heard, “and… she can rap.”
Author’s note: for anyone not familiar with Neneh Cherry’s work I suggest looking up Buffalo Stance on U-tube.