But we sense inside the mind. It's called nakedness. To discover the nakedness of our skin, cover her innocence. To uncover the beauty of her chestity, uncover the intelligence of her clothed mind. It's best to openly love her beautiful, clad mind and to be an undercover lover of her beautiful naked behind. Think the black woman is queen. She knows she glows from her subtle dark, chocolate skin, radius through her enormous soul. She knows her queenly character grants her a providential statue. She's focused, fully aware of her royal, royal, high-not status. Confidently, she glows. When she experienced the king's three eminents, attentively, she glows. She knows, too much time wasted kissing frogs, waiting for them to turn into princes. When the king's presence is supremely imminent, she knows, just the thought of his deep-fess reverence consummately invigorates her soul. Passionately, she glows. Think the heart of the black woman is queen. My new dear, queen of the Amazon. Hey! How are you, Susice? Thank you! Do the last two last elections.