to say that i’m “distracted” would be an understatement
the way yonder shoulder radiates, the opaline flesh revealed;
a testament to the raw fertility of the deltoid;
how anyone could remain unfettered by the
erotic energy exuded by the delicate curves is
how i might like to touch the soft, resplendent skin,
otherwise covered by oppressive fabric,
adorned by a single graceful mole:
a perfect imperfection, one that sends a surge of
ecstatic glee throughout my body.
why, my self-control, as manageable as it was—
yet when that perfect ratio is exceeded, of skin to strap,
it’s all i can do to resist my own temptation—
my mind is a whirlwind of unrequited lust.
simply to imagine
breaking the bonds that hold the gentle strap draped over,
revealing but a strip more of exotic skin,
is to ignite an unquenchable fire in my loins.
simply stroking that exposed flesh
would launch me into the throes of orgasmic bliss
my vision is hazy
i can’t sleep
to keep it covered would save my pitiful life
but to let it burst free might kill me