Can Party and Cry
for Karisma Registry

day breaks
where thighs meet in tight shorts

squeaks through, squeezes through
as light does, through stained glass

must confess, want to worship
seeing you dance in shorts, tight as skin

what a grip--shorts hug you
hold you, expose what they hide

grow hungry for it, for hairy pussy lips
or do you/or have you shaved

my heart races, along with several
hundred thousand others, while you dance

beast in you calls to beasts in us
how hard you screw and screw us

are you wicked enough for all of us
craving a moment in hell

with you to light our fires
to roast our nuts like chestnuts


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2009
5:49 a.m. 30.04.09