A kind of man’s woman
a startling figure, carried well
well into her
(not to be spoken of) age

Wielding the kind of handshake to shake the world
with eye-catching stature to amplify strength of character
a hand shake with promise
strong, not arrogant
purposeful, not side-tracked
somehow elegant without being pretentious

Application of an undeniable grace, a composure recognized through trained eye
confident, yet curious
dedicated, yet flexible
complete packages are so rare, so uncommon, so worthwhile finding in
times of fake hair, fake nails, fake news

My Yin/Yang were caught guard down,
offering Shrek-like devotion to a park-side folk music princess

She need only shake hands, introduce herself with no ulterior motive
unencumbered by small talk, past pleasantries

Chivalry would have me drive her to the ends of a flat earth
and we’d only just met

Tomorrow is my tomorrow
My one and only chance to make
a second impression.

If you fall for me; don’t fall for who I am on a good day first.
The first thing you should see is the sweet
melancholy hiding in the corners of my eyes.
The first thing you should melt over is the softness of my belly and how
I’ve grown accustomed to the idea that my hips may never correlate
with the rest of my body’s shape.
The first thing that should tempt you is the clean slate of my face and
absent-minded behavior, how I can never seem to notice when someone notices me.
Don’t fall in love with my sweet demeanor, because
I promise it won’t last.
Don’t fall in love with my laughter unless
you’re willing to earn it on an especially bad day.
And please, don’t fall in love with my voice unless you can
be patient enough on the days it refuses to come out of hiding.
If you fall in love with me, dive in and
search for the deepest parts of me.
If you want my love, accept the sharpest pieces that cannot be repaired
and please, please handle me with care.