I'm not wearing socks today.
Cuz that leads to shoes
shoes lead to grocery stores
and any myriad of bullshit tasks
and cornucopias of busy work.
No socks, no watches,
In one fell swoop I have eliminated both time and task.
All for a dream
a burning sensation in the mind.
There's no cream for that y'know...
Just a righteous wrist and mind's eye set to fingertips.
Still sends shivers up my back.
Butterflies down my pants.
Red phantom lips across my body.
Ah what it is to be infatuated
with college educated women
of independent means
class, and tenacity
dedication, and soft, silent
completely missable sensuality
unless your eros-fevered brain wraps silk and frills around her hips
places your favorite perfume on her thighs
just for the fun of it,
we garment her in an apron
and demicup corset
her alabastor chest heaving with each round on the brass pole
Her knees flicked effortlessly to her cheek
a jaunty corsair smirk each time our eyes meet.
ah what it is to be infatuated
wait wait wait... lose the stripper pole
lose the corset and apron
now this fantasy is going somewhere...
Did somebody break a mirror?
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