I’ve seen a woman beautiful
in all the ways that I love,
beautiful with no make-up on,
or so little make-up
that a man like me can’t tell.
She is beautiful in a t-shirt.
She is a strong woman,
not some wiry waif
who can carry her own lunch box
only because it’s empty.

I’ve seen a woman whose work is play
and who plays like she means it, too.
I’ve seen a woman so full of life
that surely she has something
to share with me.

I hope that she sees a man handsome
in the ways that she loves,
handsome without hair gel and manicures.
Handsome in denim or a tuxedo shirt,
but not some clothes horse
who worries more
about how he looks
than who he is.
I am a strong man,
the kind who pushes cars out of snowbanks.

I hope she sees a man who is passionate
about his work and his life.
I hope she sees a man so full of fire
that she wants to warm her hands
and her heart by me.

And now the ball is in her court, so to speak.
I’ve seen her,
and I can only hope
that she
sees
me.