More than just a mode of transport
Carrying from room to room,
Legs are part and parcel
To a sense of sensuality.
Curved and molded, long and
luscious
Secretive appendages
That tempt and tease
Libido's ire
To points of curiosity
Where glances linger unaware,
Imagination runs amuck
And fantasy becomes too real
As heat increases by degree.
Turn of ankle, twist of hip,
Touchable, as smooth as silk.
Longing for the good old days
of
Hem lines raised above the
knee.
Men obsess at their allure,
Grunting, rutting, wallowing
For passersby with skirts
hiked high;
Imagination holds the key.
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