Breathe laden islands rise and fall beneath the lap
of crystalline water, a steam graced surface breached,
rosettes crest, their gently risings peaks to cap
mouthfuls of desire whose lower gate's lie unbreached.
Submerged beneath chest's hollow lies a navel fine
the round perfection of its form longs, for pointed tongue.
A sweeter base can't be found 'bove the water line
yet, men would gladly drown to go below hips clung.
Below, down deep, nectar bathes the pristine pearl,
and petals, rose-red gently part in delight.
The heat, the steam the bath, and the lovely girl
perhaps, perhaps, he thinks, we'll make of this a night.