The Object of My Desire
The more time spent with her,
The more that I thirst.
Her fragrance spells my doom,
Once pretense has been burst.
She's the salt of my earth
Her taste makes my heart run
Her kiss forbidden fruit,
I can't have just one.
She moves with crepetation
Yet her sound is still sweet
She's a visual beauty
She looks good enough to eat.
I savor each curve and ripple
With a touch of my lips.
She's not just all that,
She's an actual bag of chips!
Copyright © Jason Talbott | Year Posted 2011
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