If only the universe had granted me powers of creation and named me Goddess the creator, I’d build the man of my fantasies.
In the image of “isthandwa sami” I’d create him.
With toffe-nut ice cream lips I’d create him.
I’d give him a lavender infested smile to fill the room with a motherly aroma every time he lays his eyes on me.
His eyes would be of pearls to make me fall deeper in love every time I stare into them.
His voice would be as relaxing as classical sounds. Matured mentals of your Beethovens and Mozarts.
If I had godly powers I’d create that man.
With skin made of chocolate-coloured cotton candy, good enough for me die for.
His heart would be of Gold and I a greedy miner.
Digging day and night.
His touch would be of warm subtle water falls at the edge of diamante mountains.
Priceless if you ask me.
I’d create him to fill the sky with stars every time he walks and his body would be a portrait to thirst over.
If only I was a goddess of creation, I’d create this man with godly features, in the image of “isthanwa sami” and devote myself to loving him as I love thyself.