My Perfect 10

If I picked my Valentine she'd be a perfect 10. She'd have blonde hair with highlites and answer where and when. She'd be a little shorter, yet tall enough to kiss. Her reach a little longer to torture us in bliss. Her shape would be the bomb. As sexy as they come. With hair up for the moment I'd meet her at the prom. She'd talk a little faster with words I'd say are smart. Yet keep me to attention in hugs up to my heart. A smile just like a lion. Her face a source of pride. One to show my mother. And then to make my bride. My Valentine was perfect as I lost her way back then. How was I to know that she would find her perfect 10.