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That 1st time I saw you.
I thought to myself as you walked by. “What a beauty!!”
I met you later that evening at the “Orange Party”
I wasn’t going to come, but I knew you’d be there.
I smiled at you and you smiled right back.
Mon cœur à tombe dans mon ventre
Somewhere in your smile, I forgot where I was
I looked in your green eyes and asked:
“Is that the real colour of your eyes?”
“What do you think”, you replied.
I really did not know what I was thinking.
I had lost my ability to reason.
In your presence I had failed to rediscover myself
Later I would ask myself:
“Dude, are you ok?”
“Get your act together” I chided on occasion.
One day, the fire alarm went off
As we exited the building, I caught a glimpse of you
There you stood on the lawn in your native apparel.
At this point I was toast.
I didn’t say a word, I only reached for my camera
As I got it in position, you started posing.
We were in total sync.

I had even forgotten about what was important
At least until my mother drew my attention. (Bless her heart)
“Is she a Christian?”
I was glad to find out that you are.
As I looked some more at your images, I began to notice the Potter’s handiwork.
He paid a lot of attention to the details.
Femme Africaine, tu es si belle.
The more I interacted with you, the more I couldn’t get you out of my head.
Indeed, your speech is seasoned with salt.
I started calling you “mon ange”.
Because, tu as l’air d’une princesse.

Albeit 2000miles later, I had begun to reason again.
I tried to convince myself to let go:
“Dude, you’re daydreaming;
She is in a world of her own”
I don’t know what we’ll do about this
But I had to let you know.

La Première fois que je t’ai vu.