Her Hidden Treasure

Her flame was only for the women – Not for us unlucky men; A weakness lay for feminine way: To feel an even fairer skin In silky slide. Her lips were for the satin love that Only flows from rising breast; The creamy tan was not for man To pull towards a chiselled chest In weathered hide. Her hidden treasure down below Would shy away from macho length And only rouse upon the blouse Undone by other sapphic strength – In time, inside! Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010 woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman woman