Hot-To-Trot
I find summer in your hair,
Your eyes emerald oceans
More vast than I could ever grasp.
And here I am handing you something to stir with
As I rumble with your every word.
You are silly, let's get that out of the way.
And yet you reign magnificent,
Like a queen from the clouds,
At-chance choosing me as yours.
The music of your voice,
The song in your face.
I am thrown into compliant adoration
To the wonders of your heart.
And I'm not being gushy, I'm being sincere.
You're it, baby.
You're hot-to-trot.
Copyright © Matt Caliri | Year Posted 2012
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