A harsh grey sheeted the others
as that sweet siren stole the show.
With an entrance that chilled the bone
and uplifted our pensive flow.
Our desires rested on hers.

A flash, and pleasant patch of pink
arose beneath her rosy thigh.
The sins we seek of her alone,
with this sweet and succulent sigh,
but alas we only can think...

No, dream of that wavering breath
and delicacy of her chest.
These feelings are finally sown.
Yet, even though we try our best,
this poem ends with only death.