Oh look
A
glimpse of thigh
As
her legs cross
Young
girls
Hipster
clad
Showing
thongs
Fail
to titillate
But
the young woman
In
the lemon dress
Illuminated
in the sunlight’s shaft
Excites
the senses
A
well-endowed Philly
On
an adjacent table
Leans
forward suddenly
And
her breasts
Rearrange
themselves
Delightfully
I
feel no shame
As
I view
A
curvaceous beauty
A
shapely leg
Or
well-sculptured ankle
Pert
well-formed buttocks
Plump
or perky breasts
But
nothing tarty or vampish
No
bare midriffs
Or
obscenely short skirts
Less
is more
I
feel no shame
For
letching
Where’s
the sin
In
looking
They
are god’s creation
Well
packaged
Why
would he
Give
us such delicacies
If
he intended us not to look
So,
where’s the sin
Even
if I am the vicar
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