What Is Sexy?

You; that exquisite individual. 

Highly metaphysical, a question of the mind,

Rather more about what’s inside? 

Where can I find the meaning,

The description of what I’m seeing,

Even when you’re out of sight?

Sexy is what you do right.

Your clenched fist when you have to fight,

Or a gentle kiss on pained lips.

Sometimes it’s the tongue you bite,

Despite your habit of expressing your thoughts

You also have the insight to see

They’ve already had a cold, hard night. 

They’ll apologize in daylight, and

You’ve been there too.

Sexy is not listening when that ass tells you to shut up,

That ad tells you about your big butt, 

or ANYONE dares call you a slut.

You’ve got enough voices 

Reminding you of choices,

But you stand satisfied

With modest pride of the life you live.

You’re more than sexy. 

You are seductive, and desirable,

Astonishing and admirable.

You don’t give a damn about a single thing seen in the magazines

Because when you smile, it’s with every fiber of your being.

And you cry from a soul that’s bleeding.

You never think about how others are seeing you,

You are not here for them.  

Your ends will justify the means to your methods.

You are respected because you respect yourself,

You care like no one else, but still protect yourself.

At times a little too much, you can be hard to touch, 

But you’re never out of reach for someone drowning 

Off this beach of a life. 

You mend miseries, offer sympathies,

Yet never ask for symphonies dedicated 

To the things you do for others. 

You’re humble, but you have troubles too. 

We all do. 

Why are you sexy?

I appreciate you.