She was a head-turner, that one.

She wore tight-fitting clothes that
Complimented her like a love letter
And her walk could make
Any sensible dude talk

I'll never forget when we first talked
And how although I only liked her physically
She presented herself as innocently decent
Even after showing me a picture in her underwear.
And I felt badly
Because even as I write this poem
She might someday find this and know it was for her
But if she does
Her knee-high black boots can walk proudly across these words.