Pristine

You were never jaded
Never worn down
Or torn after all these years

Artwork standing intact 

Workmanship like you is slowly fading extinct 

Ever since sixteen candles decorated your cake

You’ve reminded me of the Sistine Chapel

You were pristine battles where bullets of sweat and paint landed exactly where they were meant to.

Finding a frame to match is humanly impossible,

So your figure is Gods doing.

And nothing this breathtaking should be stationary.

Which is why you’re never content. 

All Your Fault

I know you’ve seen the way I look at you

Like your eyes are the sky I’m trying to look into
Could you blame any man for putting you on a pedestal
As if every aspect about you isn’t a spectacle
More like ineffable
Words do you no justice
The definition of luscious
No need to rush it.
I love the way your lips taste
The ones on your face and below the waist.
Your aura demands attraction
Attention of men focused on you,
and that’s causing distractions
What you’ve been up to
And all of your actions
Got married men sneaking looks in front of their wives
Look at you ruining lives
That’s all your fault
Because you came out with no faults.
Even your imperfections
Could give men erections.
Pardon my indiscretion
But my mental compass is headed in your direction
And that’s all your fault.