Falls on you,
The bra strap,
Triggering my
Voyeuristic thoughts.
Vision going beyond
Your dress-
The firm grip on
Your breast,
My face all over your
Bust, and belly button.
Ohh! This drool of
My lust.
The creases of your
Panties guiding the
Carve of my tongue,
The roundness of your
Butts, fitting in the
The clutches of my
Fingers.
Hell yes to this
Wet savory of desire.
Wild imagination of
Harmonal mishap.
Speaking about this
Is perhaps a crime.
But who has control
Over the unhinged
Thoughts?
Panties and politics,
Ass and asceticism-
Everything merging
In one sloppy philosophy
Of “just looking.”-
Unzipping our
Fantasies in public-
Den of hungry wolves
Is our mind-
How, wildest sex stays
In the skull inside.
Damn!..