You are as fine as the french silk sheets you sleep in.
Flawless, soft and decadent.
You are the Domaine Romanée-Conti
Passing through your soft pursing lips,
kissing the crystal rim of my glass.
You are as breathtaking as midnight in Paris,
A sight briefly seen as I lean across your lap
But still imprinted, and sealed with your kiss.
You are New York's Golden Opulence Sundae,
the 23-carat gold leaf that you peel off
And gently place on my tongue.
You are the Bugatti Veyron,
racing through the Overseas Highway in the Florida Keys,
with me, staring out at the vibrant blues as we speed passed.
You are the Museo Guggenheim of Spain
The Runways in Italy
The Kohinoor diamond
And I am but a simple man,
Trying to keep up.