Her freckles lit her face
like the stars lit the night sky
I’d built a rocket ship to space
if I could catch her eye,
run my fingers down her cheeks,
let her know shes the reason why
my voice trembles – my knees get week.
All the world is a stage and we are but actors,
The bell rang and her long long legs lift her from her seat
my gaze was stuck – as she strides – to the door.
Her hips dipping side to side – my eyes implore;
her picture perfect ass, as I follow her down the hall –
After class; She turn to me and asks, “Do you love my ghetto booty?”
I reply “It is fair, what I really love is the flair
of your long red hair – the way it frames your face of freckles –
the way it flows down the curve of your back
defining your outlines in that sultry dress,
the mystery of the top hat –
the way your red hair compliments the black.
She moved like a seasoned model,
she smiled and flirted like a witch casting her spell;
then slid slowly into a sexy pose
smooth as silk, and just as natural
she bent over, and said “please take my photo,”