Get a girl, go on a date
Get again laid, do as I said," he rants
I reply grinning to my left
He says, "What type of girl you like?"
"Is it the ass and tits,
or the colour of the skin or your cultural bits,"
he looks at me holding his Hoegarden
zooming in with the eyes of those around the table
they, waiting for me to speak, to stamp a label
"I like a girl who reads" I reply
The words of literature that fuels her imagination
Where words can scare, scar and scent her skins sensation
Her fashion would not confine to the norms of the day
She would make her appearance formed, not from others say
Yes, she too at times, would avoid conversations and look down to fiddle her phone
her reads would not just be facebook status messages
as she her eyes gleam from hard cover books, paragraphs, passages
She would not be boring person because of books
Her conversations would be an adventures hook
making love can be kinky with cuffs like 50 shades of grey
or be sensuously supple like a Shakespearian play
learning to make love not just from pornography
but from the 64 positions of iconography
conversation would be whispers to the smell of papers in bookshops
rather shouting to hear each other to the smell of cigarette in the pub
she would laugh till she snorts to a witty pun
than a bimbo who prefers slap stick fun
A traditional believe she would have it too
when somethings a miss, she wont think to eschew,
You see,
some prefer ass and tits
I too like to tap on those bits
a handful of bosom is definitely awesome
but,
youth would wane and time would fly
for those who read, romance is never runs dry
it's true, I am choosy,
I look for a girl who wake up each day,
fueled with passion
walks through life with her own goals and vision
all these tickles my sensations
So, I like a girl who reads.
Inspired from a poem with the same title by Mark Grist
