Man? No. Beast!

Stories of lightning, hard thunder and steel.
Jeff Goldblum, you are my mother-flippin' hero!
A chin like Roman Nero, a modern pharaoh;
Your bod is a feast for eyes--for real.
Stallion hair, wild tan eyes; when you arise,
My day, the way I embrace life, gives birth
To wings that lift and fly; my worn eyes
Do surf the Earth; there is but mirth
In this hurting world. Your rhino-thick arms
Carry my lungs like a hot air balloon
Up to the azure sky, way past the flying barns.
My breaths lay in golden oceans, festooned
In the nebulous outer space. Woe! My heart fumes
because I can't see my dear Goldblum!