I need a sculpted shoulder, to cry on.
I need a defined back, to lightly press my forehead against.
I need a muscular waist, to hold on to.
When he turns around, I need a set of beautiful eyes that don't hurt when I look into them.
I need a bold chest, to lay my cheek upon.
I need legs, stronger and longer than mine; that can stand when I can't.
And when I get weak, I need toned arms, to wholed me.
Tiana Tucker
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-seven-pounds/
