I was only trying to love you
I’m not turned on by muscles and money
I’m turned on if I think your voice is sexy
Vocabulary is deep
Stands tall on his feet
Bags beneath
His brown eyes
He prefers truth over lies
His hands must be as detailed as a caricature
I’m turned on by masculine fingers
Adored with nail polish or rings
Intense subtly
When he’s gone, his presence lingers
Tobacco cologne remains too
He is like earth and the heavens in one room
His beautiful Adam’s apple
Is now my favorite fruit
His voice i wear like a cashmere coat
His touch his cold hands and his throat
The dirt visible under his nails
His lack of sleep
The marks on his collarbone
Mythological men
As neat as stone
About the Creator
Ava Spolec
I am writing
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