My imagination
is the all-encompassing *****
Composed of touchable red curves,
she speaks
in dark, melted tones that drip
& cool to harden at their destination.
She’s the sort of insatiable pursuit
most boys are taught to desire.
She’s the well-spoken lady
most gentlemen deserve.
She transfigures into
the most verboten temptations
& acts as the pair of arms
that will suddenly slam you up against a wall.
She eases into you with her starved gaze
& examines your every possible inch.
She leaves you with nothing to hide.
Scrupulous? Undeniably so.
She touches whatever she wishes
with gloveless fingertips
& ***** your mouth dry
of all bitter objection.
She leaves you speechless--
but smiling.
My imagination?
She is a bombshell,
& I think I like her better than me.
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 6:02 PM UTC
My imagination
is the all-encompassing *****
Composed of touchable red curves,
she speaks
in dark, melted tones that drip
& cool to harden at their destination.
She’s the sort of insatiable pursuit
most boys are taught to desire.
She’s the well-spoken lady
most gentlemen deserve.
She transfigures into
the most verboten temptations
& acts as the pair of arms
that will suddenly slam you up against a wall.
She eases into you with her starved gaze
& examines your every possible inch.
She leaves you with nothing to hide.
Scrupulous? Undeniably so.
She touches whatever she wishes
with gloveless fingertips
& ***** your mouth dry
of all bitter objection.
She leaves you speechless--
but smiling.
My imagination?
She is a bombshell,
& I think I like her better than me.
© Bitsy Sanders, August 2013
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