her just fucked hair, no sex and essays

 Reflections in the mirror don't look right
see myself smiling everything is quiet
I forget about her absence, The'Whore
I bow down before my master, my Moor
I'm his Desdemona,  on Iago's note
I mean, I'm clarifying, I chocked
there was someone there behind me, "Who's there?"
I called n' heard her, listening scared 

her complexion is modest and so is
her face holding my lips still to a kiss

Opening my eyes lets me come to terms
 A Father without a set of sermons 

She's the daughter of secrets that'er set in stone
Leaves me kissing my mirror alone
it's not that she doesn't want my freedoom
she's on the other side of their kingdome
This looks funny here baby, "you can tell right?"
 she can't she's restless and unable to fight