If beads could talk I bet they would plead with her to settle down.
The ground suffers her aggressive and sly movements.
Arms swaying symbolically in the air with the rhythm of the wild melodies of her ancestry.
As her waist moves in accordance .
Every move she makes excludes not her contoured figure all coated with melanin.
Onlookers feast their eyes hungrily, scrutinizing her every move.
The masculine gender looks on with lust and keen interest.
Not wanting to miss out on this spectacle.
Moving to the ancestral tune of her forefathers,
An African dancer,
A she-African dancer,
Portraying her culture according to her native muse.
Merci pour la lecture!
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