You are my whiskey type of lover,
My friend and man, my true admirer,
The unavailable and unattainable,
The always willing for a meetup eagle.

You are my fast driving kind of lover,
The one who owns the money and the cars,
The man with decency, ambitions,
With no morality, just passions.

You are my blue eyed kind of looker,
The smoking pal, the poking toucher,
The physically slaving type of bold possessor,
And what is worse- I was in hunger.

You are the “let’s go dance, my life” aggressor,
Enjoying all the eyes on us at clubs.
You are the forever typing sort of answer,
You are why I smile when looking at the screens.