Ooh P!

When the feet of the drum 
Dream like cream in a beat,
i surrender both with my switch
that which twitches 
reaches the trumpet-like voice like yours,
as it soldiers over fading barriers,
twinkle like unto dusty justice my little star
... Beat,
on the rocks with ice just because
... Heat,
Tumbling a jumble metaphorically; simile
... Feat,
that's how your smile shines in my memory,
similarly.
The only thing between me, you and the Ritz,
is tall tar as my Naija-man would say.
"How far?"
Not too far
but Tall as tar by car.
I'm leaving, Mos Def, most definitely.
Now you know - i'm a travelling man
Definitively because when your lips died mine with youR red flavored lisp whining,
with youR guitar stringed touch,
and when youR violin hisses with your smooth kisses,
I miss you, actually.
Hope I'm still your African Shaolin Tiger from Siberia. 
If not from Beijing.