that fun kind of beauty.
The kind of beauty that drags you laughing by her side
Electric, a 9-volt battery to the tongue.
Blonde, brunette, or redhead who cares what fucking color
for she brings them all out in you.
How can you refuse
that kind of pulse
that finds your own.
And sweet unsuspecting syncopation
to a spirit you desperately want
to get to know.
That kind of beauty
needs to be explored.
Hear her heart
Shut out the noise
Take her hand.
and just let
by Philip Wardlow 2015