My lover’s eyes aren’t deep as the ocean,
They’re dull and shallow like a mud puddle.
Extremely thin and bony is his shin
His arms, chest, and legs have little muscle.
His lips are the taste of sour coffee
And his hair falls like the grass of the field.
A god’s face is bare, but his grow poppies.
In the sun, not tan skin, but red that peels.
I may laugh at him when he struts his stuff,
But his love for me is sexy enough.
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2 comments:
:) I like this one. Do you know Shakspeare's sonnet along the same vein? 'Where goddesses tread air, my love walks on the ground' and all that?
the organization was directly based on "my mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun"
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