Anytime she would see
The branches of aloe vera,
She would be caught by surprise;
Those tall, moist, freckled branches;
She would swear
They belonged to a girl;
No there was no flower standing there
At the window;
There was a girl with moist,
Smooth, freckled thighs;
And wicked they were;
She wanted to sense that smooth curve,
That soft skin;
How she would pass her fingers
Eagerly along the flesh; they made her long;
