You look like a rock star’s girlfriend:
porcelain
slutty
gorgeous.

You look like the sort of creature
that adorns the arms
of the very best
that popular culture has available
from whom money and creativity flow
like lava from an angry Mediterranean mount.
You seem like the sort
that is used to the very best.

You strike me as a stunner,
a valuable asset
a piece of art herself
that is used to getting what she asks for
because she knows just how to ask
and is very good at receiving.
You are something special.
You are desired.
You are attained.
You are a prize that only the greatest may achieve.

You appear to me
like a rock star’s girlfriend,
when you should be so much more.