A Fan.
I noticed her and instantly admired her appearance.
Admiration of the way she appeared made me a fan.
Fixated on her physical; a beautiful face and over-appealing curves.
Highlights of her sexiness became those mind-blowing plays, as I remained a spectator; continuing my admiration from the stands.
My mind became a stadium, filled to capacity, and roaring with one thought.
Whatever gentleman blessed with the right to call this woman his life teammate, had to be more than just a lucky man.
She consistently averaged a ten, gaining new fans wherever she displayed her talents.
Quite frankly, the mediocre ladies who tried mimic her skill-set never did stand a chance.
Maybe she’s a free agent; no commitments and no team.
It would be wise to offer my alliegence and it definitely wouldn’t hurt attempting to extend my hand.
So I’ll approach her like she’s the average player on a minor stage,
When in all actuality, of her, I am a fan.
-Dame
