I think I might be a pervert.

I mean, a mere bite of her lip,
stroke of the hair
or flick of
her hip
sends fire around my body
criminalises my mind
and throws me outside,
to look pressed
nose against
the glass,
breath blurring up
the window,
and my view of her ***.

Yep,
I think I might be a pervert.

Aren't you?
I mean when it's hot,
don't you get thirsty
from
sitting beside
the fountain?
Course you do,
we're all perverts,
even those baldy
monks up on some
breast-like mountain.