By KAELYN ROSS

Oh, Bacchus. You know my one weakness -- the way your pectoral muscle defines your masculine chest. My eyes immediately focus on your suggestive yet elegant torso. After appreciating that area, my eyes wander to your flawless, hairless arm pits. The shadows created by your muscles pull me in continuously deeper into that arm. But, no! Not yet. I pull myself out of it because I know that your biceps also require praising.

Your protruding ivory collarbones guide me on a journey to your superbly highlighted shoulder. I trail down your forearm to notice your hand as it gently pinches the draped sheet that unfortunately covers the rest of your chest. The surplus of your off-white linen sheets swathes a tainted pillow, which is kind of gross. I am willing to ignore it for all of your positive aspects.

Your flamboyant headwear that your mother probably made for you from findings in the background truly captures how greatly you value family. Aw. I admire your courage to spray tan only your face, beautifully defining your jawline. You obviously are staring at me, giving me that signature smolder. And the eyebrows, of course! The framing of the whole face. They say that eyebrows are sisters and not twins, but oh my, I beg to differ with yours.

That hair... Those curls are like millions of little arms reaching out to embrace me. This photo is obviously him asking me out. Yes, a million times YES!