That Guy in The Black Shirt

Don't look at it as a hyper-sexual post. K? Thanks!

       

My gaze halts when I see him in a black shirt,

He needs no obedience and button up till the neck,

Let the collar be a little pulled back to tidy up the sweat,

Let there be some space for that breeze to smell his perfume,

The unbuttoned ones’ show a little of his neck bone,

Shift below to the well done ironed fabric that fits across his chest,

There is a smartness he carries with just that colour,

If it is sunny and he sports a glare,

I am curious to see his eye colour,

The skin doesn’t bother with the way that shirt wraps his body,

It puts across a perfect mien, could be a false pretense for all I know,

But that momentary appearance locks the gaze,

A formal one the better, for a regular tee can become mundane,

Stronger the better, for the physique that holds on the fit,

Mentally striking a conversation at the sight,

Leading up to a cruel smile that comes on the face,

There is just, so something about the black shirt on this guy,

He’s tall, not too fair nor dark, but just as faultless,

To carry that essence of looking good,

All of this just happens within a glimpse,

With That Guy in the Black Shirt!