She’s a cocoa-mocha,
cappuccino soaker.
I love her dreadlocks 
that I can pick,
to get inside her head.
Chocolate butter eyes 
that melt me where I stand.
My heart is in her hand,
and her hand is in mine.
I want her mind up where we can meld 
in song, soul and deed.
She’s got those hip shaken, 
legs walkin', 
way of doin’ things, and I 
sure am glad I’m her marshmallow crème.