Nice skin, nice teeth,
not known
but not too alone.
Eyes worth staring at,
hands worth holding,
arms worth grabbing,
that own unique style.
A sense of humor,
a sarcastic touch,
a pinch of bitch
that's all curled up.
Hair's always fresh,
makeup not needed,
nothing too obnoxious
but can get a little excited.
The face: a book,
myself: the pen.
Not just another chapter,
the start of a whole new story.
Not too religious,
hasn't gone around,
not perfect but imperfect,
except for that one little flaw.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem