Casey

An elegant widows peak adorns him 
with a crown of raven hair echoing 
Masculinity, Oh! Why so tempting.
Tort skinned like a gladiator, thin 
yet thick, friends, I give you the paradox 
of beauty. Motionless yet determined 
with every movement of his eyes, lined
by lids of peach and endless lashes. Flocks
of miscellaneous speckles fleck
his face like artwork by jackson pollock.
Thin lipped, dark eyed, his hair malleable 
and soft as gold. Soon I doubt I’ll be able 
to resist touching him, and holding the
bronzed flesh that used to be mine. I’m sorry.