ode to a shoulder covered merely by a strap of slightly less than two inches in width

to say that i’m “distracted” would be an understatement

 

the way yonder shoulder radiates, the opaline flesh revealed;

a testament to the raw fertility of the deltoid;

how anyone could remain unfettered by the

erotic energy exuded by the delicate curves is

unfathomable.

 

how i might like to touch the soft, resplendent skin,

otherwise covered by oppressive fabric,

adorned by a single graceful mole:

a perfect imperfection, one that sends a surge of

ecstatic glee throughout my body.

 

o, desire

why, my self-control, as manageable as it was—

yet when that perfect ratio is exceeded, of skin to strap,

it’s all i can do to resist my own temptation—

my mind is a whirlwind of unrequited lust.

 

simply to imagine

breaking the bonds that hold the gentle strap draped over,

revealing but a strip more of exotic skin,

is to ignite an unquenchable fire in my loins.

 

simply stroking that exposed flesh

would launch me into the throes of orgasmic bliss

 

my vision is hazy

i can’t sleep

 

to keep it covered would save my pitiful life

but to let it burst free might kill me

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