it's not that she is a wonderful lover in bed

or looks gorgeous in a wife beater 

poom poom shorts and 4 inch heels

and a ass bigger than a basketball

she is not a masterpiece like a mona lisa painting

where people are mesmorize

when walking down the streets

brothers casting her a quick glance

wishing they were in my kicks

that's not it

 

it's when a woman rubs my sexy bald head

telling me that all is going to be okay

listens to me babble when i'm just venting

"it's ok papi, your manly voice sends the chill up and down my spine"

she'll know my smell

she sees me

knows the texture of my rough skin

looks deep into my eyes

when my eyes go deep

 

i haven't found her

maybe she'll find me someday

my failures has been i'm too wrapped

in finding ms. perfection

rather than ms. perfection for me

there are flaws to all

question is what am i'm going to deal with

if i don't deal with, i walk out

but reality sets in

when i realize that every woman 

brings baggage

question is do i have the patience to unpack

her baggage little by little

 

i can definitely imagine

walking on the beach

holding hands

and knowing we don't have to speak

times that i come home

hungry and tire

she cooks dinner

made sure to put the right amount

of sazon to spice up the chicken

serves me 1st

pulls up the chair so i can sit back and enjoy

knowing that she cooked from the heart

turns on to sportscenter

we both laugh at how the knicks

are going to choke yet again

 

she will have no fear

no shame

no insecurity about

being genuine

doesn't get caught up

to that hot garbage about girl power

cries when she feels something that is very touchy

go out with the girls

and come home to me-her papi

putting up with my crazy self

but not take it personal

because she loves and adores me

admires my drive

aspires my strength

embraces my manhood

 

this kind of loving will happen someday

when it comes, this type of love doesn't happen everyday

i know that next time, i won't take it for granted ever again