and I could see your hips shaking
drawing the eyes of men
(and to be fair
a large share of their women)
to that dark portal to a hershey heaven
throbbing under those tight pants
the men goofy and flustered (and wanting her...)
the women comparing envying adjusting (and wanting her...)
but all I see is some dark haired angel
leading to where I no longer care to go
sorry dear...but it's your turn to steam things up
I leave the world to its perpetual fire
glad to feel the heat without getting burned...
Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito.
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