by Brian McCloskey
The body becomes dress becomes body. An elephant can hang from a cliff with his tail tied to a daisy. Put your lips to mine with your kiss of fire. If I wasn’t so shy, I’d kiss you. Could my nipples ruin romance? Does Finland swing her hips? These fish have manners. Judy let’s go for a walk, we can kiss and do whatever you want. And I can make a wind chime out of my underwear. Little cashmere sweaters and short black skirts. That’s what I call my socks. Grey flannel miniskirts, over trousers or thick black tights. Desire is mysterious eroticism is intangible. The rest meant nothing to me. In the end Amanda meets a prince of her own. There was a second kiss, in which we pressed into each other, and we knew it had started. Could you make that more of a hug? What’s the big deal with breasts anyway? She wasn’t wearing much other than stockings, suspenders and stilettos. I could hardly believe that was Mandy staring back. What kind of camera is that? I took a class in nuclear chemistry - and I paid attention. I’ll let you feel the upholstery. It does, because you can wear tights. Where does a dead seagull fit in? He murmured as he began to slide his hand deliciously over her breast. There’s nothing more annoying than a cow walking in front of you. The girl you feel most comfortable with and have most fun with is the right one. I never saw true beauty till this night. I was blown up eating cheese. Crikey.