Saturday, April 21, 2012

Pretty Tony


Pretty Tony

He’s always the coolest cat in the room
His swagger shakes the most stubborn gloom
A voice that on cue can coo or boom
And sex-appeal that defies all sense

The girls all clamor to see his dimples
And the friendly smile-lines at his temples
Perfect brown skin, free of pimples
A Mister Right in present tense

His words flow like butter on breakfast toast
And the women, they jostle to eat the most
Not just hanging on every word; they coast
His pauses building sexy suspense

Bristling at each sigh and shiver
What he seems to effortlessly deliver
I’d love to throw him into a river
And leave his fate to providence


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