strawberry lips
and a black-liner glare.
these are things that make you stare.

black, black boots
and short tweed skirt.
i know how to make you hurt.

polka-dot panties,
and two round, bare breasts.
little boy, you're such a mess.

crossing of legs
and an extended neck.
sweat on the brow, you're such a wreck.

a run in the tights
and a blouse off the shoulder.
your grasping hands have suddenly grown bolder.

it's a stimulation of hands to skin,
baby, buck up.
i'll let you in.

10/21/2005

Posted on 10/21/2005
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